


Royally Screwed

by Demenior



Series: Feeling Good [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Character Development, Emotions, Foreplay, M/M, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Is Fun, Sex Positive, Size Difference, The longest pwp you'll ever read, Wreck Shiro 2k17, safe sex, sex negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 44,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9700178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenior/pseuds/Demenior
Summary: Shiro freezes. He can’t have heard him right.He finally finds his voice, and squeaks out a, “What?”Okay, so maybe he found his voice from when he was nine.“You want to have sex,” Shiro repeats slowly, “with me? Tonight?”-----It's a pwp of Shiro getting boned into oblivion.Look deep in your heart, you know you want this.





	1. Shiro finds out that 'check out my spaceship' is actually the oldest space euphemism in the book and can you believe he actually fell for that?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I had a need for Shiro getting fucked senseless but I didn't want any shipping politics that came along with that. So... yes, this is Shiro getting boned by an OC. But he's a very nice OC who's here to Treat Shiro Right and give him that Good Alien D, so I think we'll all manage.
> 
> I'm still finishing writing this monster and it's nearly 20k of Shiro getting it good and getting wrecked, so I'll probably post a chapter a day until it's done. 
> 
> This was gonna be a valentines day gift for me/Shiro/all of you- but I love validation and needed to share this haha. There are some links at the beginning that are SFW and just to give you the pleasant image of Shiro in some fancy new clothes (:
> 
> Lastly, to Shiro: wherever you are in that astral plane, buddy, I hope you're livin the ho dream and getting that astral d and that you're happy
> 
> ENJOY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUE TO POPULAR DEMAND:
> 
> [here's a rough idea of what Rahjim looks like.](http://demenior.tumblr.com/post/157349839244/i-had-enough-people-asking-for-descriptions-of) It's not a final version by any means and could change up whenever I feel like it/see a cooler idea. [picture doesn't show any genitals but is nsfw]
> 
> A NOTE:
> 
> If for some insane reason this story inspires you into any sort of art or writing, then the rule is you have to link it to me. You have to. I MUST yell about how much I love it. And with that in mind, go forth and enjoy the dickening.

“I am very pleased that we could come to an agreement,” Allura says, holding her flute of liquor delicately. She's smiling, and looks happier than Shiro's seen her in a long time.

“As am I,” Prince Rahjim, their gracious host, replies “an alliance between my system and Voltron will surely give the Galra some trouble.”

“That's the plan,” Shiro agrees. He's not that good at politics, so he's mostly let Allura handle conversations. He tries to talk when he knows he won't make things worse, or embarrass himself.

The Prince smiles at him and then glances over their shoulders, “ah, it appears your team has arrived. Please, excuse yourselves. Have a wonderful evening.”

Allura bows her head respectfully, with honest thanks, and Shiro mimics the action. They’d been more than fortunate with Prince Rahjim’s hospitality and willingness to argue for rebelling against the Galra in the senate. The Prince had even let them stay in his castle. The kids have been over the moon with the chance to go out and explore an alien city, and it’s given Coran and Hunk time to do some repairs on the Castle. Overall the week has been good for all of them—except for all the political haggling Allura and Shiro have been dealing with. Like the senate meeting today.

Walking to the team makes Shiro remember why they didn't bring them in the first place. This meeting had been with the senate of the solar system, one that seemed incredibly obsessed with hierarchy and aesthetic. Which meant having to dress the part. Which meant Shiro was wearing a [completely ridiculous Altean outfit he’d borrowed from the ship](https://78.media.tumblr.com/1e54e6edc574c3a6624d19e87d659c88/tumblr_nvlqraNj2z1unt4w0o1_500.jpg)— [an incredibly high, rigid collar on a tight jacket with gold thread](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/3b/45/4a/3b454a40e40046ddab9fc53dee61d3ba.jpg) embroidered on the shoulders [where the cape— a cape!— was attached.](http://68.media.tumblr.com/1dca34e164f99a02dafa53065d3b4d07/tumblr_inline_nrq8w71jBQ1qjtxsg_540.jpg) It was complete with a long skirt, which was honestly the least embarrassing part. He and Allura had matching outfits, though Shiro's was conveniently black and gold, while Allura's was white, gold and had spots of rose-pink flowers that were apparently symbols of the Royal Family.

Allura looks much better in her Ambassador clothing than Shiro does. He feels like a dressed up doll.

That, and, the others can't get over how dramatic the outfit is. He's thought they might get it all out of their system, but one look at him and Lance is cracking up again.

Shiro grabs Lance around the neck, putting him in a headlock, and messes up his hair. He’d had it gelled back, no doubt to try and dress up himself. This is a small mercy, because it looked terrible.

Allura quickly went over what had happened at the meeting: all was a success. The systems nearly unanimously agreed to join the Resistance against the Empire, and would supply Voltron with whatever aid or resources they needed. It had taken hours of negotiation on what that form of support would look like, and what would be expected on both ends, but it had come to an agreement. Finally.

It translates to: this was a night to celebrate.

Lance and Hunk immediately beeline for refreshments, with warnings not to have specific drinks for their alcoholic effect. Shiro hopes they’ll listen to him—though he is having an alcoholic flute of drink himself. But he’s an adult, and he’s wearing a dumb, constricting outfit. He gets to have at least one nice thing.

The only warning he gets is Pidge looking behind him, and looking up, before Shiro feels a soft touch to his lower back.

It’s the Prince.

“Pardon me, Shiro, but I recalled you mentioning your interest in flying earlier— may I interest you in a tour of my ships?”

Oh yeah. Earlier in the day, long before the painful, grueling hours of the meeting, and even throughout the week, Shiro and Prince Rahjim have been talking about common interests. Shiro’s nearly forgotten.

Shiro pauses, and glances back to the group. Prince Rahjim is their host, and has been one of the biggest supporters for fighting against the Galra, but it’s always unsafe to be alone.

“We shouldn't be too long,” Prince Rahjim says, “there's nothing to worry about.”

“You have your comm?” Keith asks.

“I’ll check in. Hour? Half?” Shiro offers.

“It won’t be necessary, but if it makes you feel better I’ll wait for your updates,” Allura agrees with an odd smile. It’s unlike her to not stress safety, but she must trust Prince Rahjim. That’s a good sign.

Allura reaches out to pat Shiro’s arm, “Remember, we’ve done well today Shiro. You’re allowed to have some fun.”

Shiro nods. He’s not sure if he’s suspicious of her behavior, or just doubtful of her claims. He turns back to the Prince, “Lead the way.”

 

They pick up new flutes of liquor— approved safe for human consumption, though Shiro isn't interested in having more than he's already tasted. It’s nice to have something to keep his hands occupied.

Prince Rahjim’s personal collection of ships are quite magnificent. They make the ship Shiro piloted to Kerberos look like a child's toy.

All in all, Shiro is really impressed. Like, seriously impressed. It’s been so long since he’s had a chance to fly— just him, mindless and with no intention— that he can feel the itch of temptation. Should the Prince offer a test ride, Shiro's not sure he could say no. Even if that would be a reckless idea.

The Prince is knowledgeable, and willing to put up with the fact that Shiro knows shit-all about alien technology. He lets Shiro lead the way, picking out things he finds interesting or asking about the ships, and the Prince is always happy to explain. Shiro tries to be a decent guest and keep conversation going, even so far as to picking out a ship he’d like. There are plenty of new models, but it’s an older one that catches Shiro’s eye. The design is more reminiscent of earth than anything, and it makes him feel a little homesick.

Prince Rahjim waits patiently, pausing his descriptions of each ship, both times Shiro has to check in. Shiro hadn't even realized an hour had passed. This is the closest he'd been to having mindless fun in weeks.

“I'm sorry, I seem to be rambling,” the Prince says sheepishly, “I don't intend to bore you.”

“No, no it's fine. I'm actually really interested,” Shiro replies. The Prince is also easy to talk to.

He’s a little taller than Shiro, with four arms and long legs— though the floor-length robe he’s wearing today hides his legs from view. He has thick mane of hair that is tied back with several bright ribbons and rings that probably all signify something. He has short horns on top of his head, and pointy ears. Overall he’s one of the more humanoid aliens they've come across, and yet he still looks nothing like a human.

“I have some plans for what I would like to build next— would you like to see them?” The Prince asks, “I would appreciate your input.”

Shiro can’t tell if it is sincere flattery or not, but he'll take it, “Sure,” he agrees. Otherwise he’ll have to go back to Pidge and Hunk’s whispered giggling and Lance’s outright mockery of his Ambassador outfit. And whatever else the gala might have. Probably a lot of dancing. Yeah, Shiro is fine to stay here.

“Excellent. Now, the prints are upstairs, are you alright with that?” Prince Rahjim asks.

In another scenario Shiro probably would have turned down the offer, but the Prince has been nothing but kind and helpful, and has raised no warning flags. Shiro should check in— probably ask for a partner to come join him if he’s being led further and further from the party.

He’s apparently debated too long, because Prince Rahjim speaks again.

“I apologize, Shiro, I don't mean to cause you any stress.”

“You're not,” Shiro begins, ready to explain protocol, but the Prince cuts him off.

“I did have some motive in getting you away from your friends— though nothing sinister, I assure you,” the Prince chuckles and takes a breath to steady himself, “I suppose I'll just come out and ask, rather than dancing around it.”

“What?” Shiro asks, just as the Prince says.

“I would like to have sex with you, if you are interested.”

Shiro freezes. He can’t have heard him right.

“Please remember that we have already signed an agreement with Voltron of our own will— your response won't impact that decision in any way,” Prince Rahjim says quickly, “I have no interest in coercing you into anything you do not wish to do, but I could not wait any longer.”

Shiro finally finds his voice, and squeaks out a, “What?”

Okay, so maybe he found his voice from when he was nine.

“You are handsome and brave,” the Prince replies, “I knew I desired you from the moment we met, and through our talks I came to realize you were intelligent and kind as well. I would regret it forever if I did not ask.”

“You want to have sex,” Shiro repeats slowly, “with me? Tonight?”

“Right now,” the Prince says, and laughs at his own joke, “it is a night of celebration! Why should we not celebrate it in all ways.”

Shiro's still stuck on the part where a Prince— a real Alien Prince— wants to hook up with him.

Prince Rahjim misinterprets his silence, “Please do not feel nervous to say no. I understand my title makes it feel threatening to decline, but I will harbor no ill will. I am merely offering what I think will be enjoyable to us both. And if you are not interested I will gladly return you to the party— or continue our talking. I am quite enjoying our conversations.”

The weird part is: Shiro believes him. The Prince waited until the treaty wouldn't seem like a bargaining chip, and though he’d taken Shiro somewhere private, alone, that was entirely understandable. Shiro is sure that if he says no, there will be no consequences. That is a very rare feeling in his life.

His team is safe— they're together and Allura and Coran are with them. All of the people here are their allies. They're already planning to stay the night, and Shiro's been checking in regularly so they aren't worried about him.

He's not sure about the last time he had sex— mostly because there's an anxious feeling he gets when he tries to remember what happened during his missing year, and imagines only the worst. Since becoming a Paladin, Shiro hasn't even thought about anything like this. He's been so busy that anything that wasn't important to the mission had fallen to the wayside.

And now here it is, presented in what might be the safest way possible.

Is Shiro ready for this?

“I am sorry, I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. We can return to your team,” the Prince says.

“No, no,” Shiro replies quickly, making his decision, “I mean, sorry. Yes. But not to leaving.”

Prince Rahjim’s eyes light up with understanding, “Excellent, I— I must admit I was hoping you'd say that. Now: would you like to finish the tour before or after?”

It's a good question, and Shiro does have to think about it. There are more questions he wants to ask, more things he wants to see. But now that this— that _them_ — is on the table, his body is coming alive in ways he hasn't felt in a long time.

“Later,” he says, “I… I want to, um, now. Right now. If that's okay?”

“Your request is most acceptable,” Prince Rahjim says, and steps closer. For a moment Shiro is sure he is about to kiss him, but instead puts two of his arms behind Shiro's back, just shy of touching him.

“May I?” The Prince asks. Shiro nods and the Prince sets his hands down— one at the base of Shiro's neck, the other resting in the small of his back. Even through the stupid cape, the pressure alone of the Prince’s touch is making Shiro’s brain hyperaware of the distance between them.

“Come with me,” Prince Rahjim says, “there are some quiet quarters here that we may use unseen— unless you would like to use my room?”

The Royal wing is further away, and Shiro is pretty sure they'd have to go through the Gala to get there. The thought of anyone from the crew knowing what he’s up to makes Shiro want to crawl into a hole in mortification.

“Quiet sounds great,” he agrees.

Prince Rahjim leads him towards an exit from the hangar, his grips soft but possessive and Shiro can't bring himself to mind it. He can't believe this is happening. His stomach dances nervously, and he is starting to regret not having that second drink to at least settle his nerves.

They pause just under the wing of a ship they haven't toured through yet. Shiro looks up to the Prince, not sure why they’re stopping.

“Apologies, it's not long to the room but I have been thinking about this since we met— may I kiss you?”

Shiro's been so focused on the fact that he's doing this that he forgot it was kinda weird that they, well, this is pretty much the first time they're touching with any significance.

“Yeah, I'd like that,” Shiro says. There are actual butterflies in his stomach. He hasn't felt like this in years. He hasn't kissed anyone in well over a year. He thinks.

Prince Rahjim leans down and Shiro has to tilt his head up to meet him, and their noses bump uncomfortably and they both pull back and try not to laugh, before they try again. And it works.

The Prince’s skin is soft, like he might possibly have a short layer of fur— like velvet. His lips are soft too, and despite all of his talk of hoping Shiro would say yes, he's still slow and gentle.

Shiro's not used to being treated so delicately. And he's also completely unprepared for how much he _wants_ this.

He opens up his mouth, and licks the Prince’s lips. Prince Rahjim opens his mouth with a gasp of surprise, and then Shiro's moving in. He's messy and unpracticed, and he needs to stand on his toes to make the angle work, but it's a good kiss. A satisfying kiss.

When they pull away the Prince looks absolutely dazzled.

“With the tongues,” he says, in a bit of a daze.

“You don't… kiss with tongue?” Shiro realizes.

“I like it,” the Prince grins, “I like it very much.”

And when he leans in again, Shiro's excited to meet him halfway.

Shiro hasn't had an honest-to-god makeout session like this since he was a teenager. Prince Rahjim has one hand on the back of Shiro's head, and the other three are arranged on his hips and shoulder. It feels weird, to have so many hands on him at once, and only one partner. The Prince picks up on whatever Shiro shows him very quickly, and is even more delighted when he bites at Shiro's lips and Shiro demands ‘more’.

Shiro's also not used to his partners being taller than him, and has a hard time figuring out where to put his hands. He ends up fisting them in the front of Prince Rahjim’s robe, and using that to pull the Prince closer until Shiro's walked himself into a wall— which is actually the side of the ship.

Prince Rahjim kisses him harder, nearly knocking Shiro's head into the wall if his hand wasn't there to cradle his head. Shiro's toes are curling in his shoes, and he pulls the Prince close enough that he can grind against him.

Everything's going so great. Shiro's just about content to stay here, pulling the Prince close and just shy of finding the perfect angle to grind up against him. Then there's another tongue in his mouth and he pulls back in surprise.

“Y-you have two?” Shiro stutters. He's… this has never happened to him before.

Prince Rahjim looks like he doesn't understand, “Of course,” he replies, “is that… are you okay?”

It strikes Shiro again that the Prince isn't human. He is legitimately Not Of Earth.

“It's fine,” Shiro explains, “it just startled me— was kind of a mouthful.”

“That's the point,” Prince Rahjim chuckles.

Shiro's lips are still tingling, and this time when they kiss Shiro is ready for it. It's a very weird sensation— two tongues— and he can't say it's his favorite thing in the world. But it's exciting in its newness. His whole mouth is tingling and— wait. It's getting worse. The sensation is getting intense.

Shiro pulls away again. The Prince looks worried.

“My mouth,” Shiro says, “it's all… buzzy.” It almost feels like he's having an allergic reaction, though not quite so severe.

“Apologies, that may be me,” the Prince admits, “my, um, ‘second tongue’ as you called it, is meant for stimulation. I've never used it for kissing before.”

Oh god, wait, stimulation? Does that mean for sex? Does that mean has Shiro been blowing him? It didn't occur to him that an alien would have parts in places different than people. He wants to hope space etiquette is to not stick your junk in someone’s mouth without warning them first.

At Shiro's look the Prince continues, “It's not hurting you is it? The effects do fade, I promise. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. I thought it would be fun.”

Shiro licks his lips, feeling out the sensation. It's certainly _intense_ but it's not bad. Like when a limb has gone numb and sensation is coming back into it, he feels a little hypersensitive and definitely wants to kiss more. Yeah, this is okay with him. Then Shiro's mind catches up with ‘used for stimulation’ and he can't imagine anything better than that tongue on his dick. Or anywhere. This is going to be so good.

“It's okay with me,” Shiro says, “it's more than okay. Just— a little overwhelming. Not in a bad way, just different.”

“I'm glad. I'm very skilled with my tongues, and I am curious in learning the best places to use them on humans.”

Shiro's sure his entire face heats up. Which is ridiculous. He's already agreed to sleep with the Prince, of course they're going to _talk_ about it.

The Prince pulls away and glances down between them, “Where is your genitalia located?” He asks.

It strikes Shiro again that he's about to have sex with an alien that has never met another human. He's about to make first contact.

“Between the legs,” he explains, a little breathless, “yours?”

The Prince smiles, “We match!”

They both laugh at that, and then Prince Rahjim kisses him again and slides a long thigh between Shiro's legs. The angle isn't great— the Prince is too tall for Shiro to return the favor and his knee comes in at an awkward place for Shiro to get a good grind going.

Shiro has only a stray thought about how he could try to change the scenario, when Prince Rahjim lifts him up and pins him against the wall like he weighs nothing.

Holy shit. Shiro can count the number of times this has happened to him with one hand. It's zero. He doesn't need hands to count. He's just… he's not a size that people manhandle like this. Even before the Galra.

“Okay?” Prince Rahjim checks in quickly. His thigh is back, perfect height now for Shiro to grind down on.

“More than okay,” Shiro says, grabbing at the Prince. He needs to kiss him right now. The Prince holds Shiro steady— sucking on his tongue and biting at his lips— as he grinds Shiro down against his thigh again and again. It's hiking the long Altean skirt up higher and higher each time, and makes Shiro feel more than racy.

Shiro can't help it. He's trying to kiss, he's trying to hold on, but his mouth falls open with a low moan. His fingers clench on the Princes shoulders with every slow roll of his hips.

He hasn't been this turned on in so long.

“B-bedroom,” Shiro stutters.

Prince Rahjim is kissing along his jaw, still keeping up that slow and steady rocking. Shiro's back arches with every roll. The Prince gets his way to Shiro's neck, the buzz of his second tongue has left a trail across Shiro's skin, and runs into a complication.

“This needs to come off,” the Prince growls, finding himself confronted with the high collar of Shiro's outfit.

“Bedroom,” Shiro repeats.

“Yes. Now,” the Prince agrees.

He steps away from the wall, still holding Shiro, and proceeds to start walking. Shiro can't help but kiss him again. They barely get a few steps before Prince Rahjim presses Shiro against the ship to rutt against him.

They keep kissing— Shiro really doesn't want to stop, but it's getting increasingly obvious that he _needs_ a bedroom right now or he's going to ask the Prince to fuck him right here in the hangar.

Which really shouldn't be as hot as he thinks it is, good grief.

“Bedroom,” Shiro insists. And he needs to get down. He has to get on his own two feet or else they’re never going to make it. Prince Rahjim has slid the long skirt of Shiro’s robe up past his knee on one leg, and the feeling of his warm fingers on Shiro’s thigh are making it very hard to think.

“Too far,” the Prince disagrees. It’s practically a growl, in between increasingly messy and hungry kisses. Shiro can barely catch his breath. One of Prince Rahjim’s hands leave Shiro, reaching for something else, and Shiro couldn’t care less— the Prince is stepping closer, almost holding Shiro against the wall with his body alone, and another one of his hands has moved to Shiro’s chest, fingers fanning out to feel the rapid rise and fall of his breaths, and it’s slowly moving down.

There’s beeping just beside Shiro’s ear, and then the _wssh_ of a door sliding open.

“This is closer,” the Prince says, and he’s stepping back, still holding Shiro like it’s effortless, and walks onto the ship.

 

It’s a narrow stairwell to get to the main part of the cruiser, and they end up sprawled on the steps after the Prince trips on Shiro’s stupid cape. Prince Rahjim is on top of Shiro, holding himself up with two arms and using the other two to hold Shiro’s hips up so that only Shiro’s shoulders are on the stairs. The urgency has slowed down a little. Prince Rahjim is still grinding against him, a slow roll of his hips and pulling Shiro against him, as they kiss languidly. Shiro’s fingers are tangled in the Prince’s mane. It’s not as soft as he thought it might be, but he likes the thickness of it, and the way it curls around his fingers.

The Prince pulls away to sit back on his knees. He’s still got Shiro’s thighs spread around his, and the damn skirt has been pushed up to Shiro’s hips. Shiro can’t imagine how indecent he looks, practically on display like this.

Rahjim takes a long, languid look up Shiro’s body, clearly enjoying what he sees. Shiro can’t help but shudder under the gaze. He looks like he’s ready to devour.

“I would like to undress you now,” he says.

The stupid high collar has been getting in the way and feels very uncomfortable in this position.

“Yeah me too,” Shiro says. He gets his hands under him to push him upright— Rahjim still hasn’t let go of his hips and so this means that Shiro’s probably going to end up in his lap. Which isn’t a bad idea at all. Except that they’re on stairs.

He’s about to voice this idea when his hand slips on the stupid cape bunched up underneath him and he falls backwards and cracks his head on the stairs.

Ow.

“Shiro? Are you alright?”

Shiro blinks his eyes open. Rahjim is leaning over him, clearly worried.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Embarrassed, mostly,” Shiro grunts. Why were these stairs suddenly so uncomfortable? Why did they think making out on stairs was a good idea? “I need to get this cape off, now.”

Rahjim smiles in relief, “Agreed.”

 

The make it up the stairs without any more mishaps, not that they don't nearly get distracted every time Prince Rahjim touches Shiro. Which is all the time. Shiro feels more than embarrassed about nearly giving himself a concussion when they’re just getting to the really good stuff.

His whole mouth is tingling, and his lips feel kissed raw and maybe sucked and bitten a little swollen. It’s a really good feeling. He’s a little worried that, combined with the weird sensation from Rahjim’s second tongue, he might be lisping or slurring his words and he doesn’t realize— but Rahjim has yet to say anything so Shiro’s remaining hopeful.

The ship is made for groups of no more than five for long-distance travel, so while it’s not cramped it’s certainly not roomy. But it’s still a spaceship. Shiro feels entirely at home, even with all the alien-language warning labels and instructions on the wall, he feels like he could find his way around quite easily. It also makes him realize he’s never had sex in a spaceship before.

He says enough to the Prince as Rahjim is undoing the clasps holding the high collar together since they’re in the back and Shiro feels like he’s more liable to just cut it off with his prosthetic.

“Really? But I thought you were a pilot on your planet,” Rahjim says.

“Spacecraft aren’t as numerous on earth,” Shiro explains, “and they’re owned by the government. I just… there really was never going to be any chance for me to do anything.”

“Well, sex without gravity is not as much fun as you would assume,” Rahjim says, “though just for novelty’s sake you will have to try it sometime.”

There’s an obvious implication that Rahjim would be happy to show him.

The collar finally comes undone with a click, and with it removed they can get the cape off. This Altean outfit is just complicated layer after complicated layer and Shiro can’t imagine why anyone would willingly wear it.

Rahjim kisses the exposed skin of Shiro’s neck, and his arms come to wrap around Shiro’s waist. He’s been trying to get at this skin since they started kissing, and Shiro’s not inclined to tell him to stop. The Prince alternates sucking and biting, and then his tongue trails after leaving Shiro’s skin tingling and sensitive for when he comes back to worry at it more. Really, Shiro could let him do this all night. It feels so good. Shiro’s knee pops up as if he could genuinely float away because, wow— yes!, it feels so good.

“I thought,” Shiro rasps out, “I thought the point was to get out of our clothes.”

“I’m trying,” Rahjim says, and he’s sucking at a point just under Shiro’s jaw and Shiro’s knees turn to jelly, “but you make it very difficult to stay on task.”

And it’s things like that, that Rahjim keeps saying like they’re obvious truths, that make Shiro blush so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming out of his ears. Who just spits stuff out like that? About him?

“I think you’re just horny,” Shiro laughs. He knows he is. He’s definitely on his way to getting hard, and isn’t that a weird sensation? He hasn’t even bothered to try and touch himself since escaping the Galra— there was just so much to do, and so much fear that he’d be too broken to even feel anything like this again. Plus there was just… no interest there for him. What would he get from it? He’s never really used his left hand and he’s too scared to try the right.

“I think you’re deflecting,” the Prince replies, “do my compliments make you uncomfortable?”

“Um, not in a, uh, bad way,” Shiro tries to explain. How does can he articulate that he’s just not used to this? People don’t just go around saying shit like this about anyone, let alone Shiro, “it’s just… unexpected.”

“Then I shall make up for all the praise you have been lacking,” Rahjim says.

It almost sounds like a threat.

He turns Shiro so that they’re facing each other again. He keeps one set of hands on Shiro’s hips, while the others run up and down Shiro’s arms as if he’s soothing a nervous animal.

“You are determined, and handsome,” Rahjim begins and Shiro feels his face heat up again. He’s going to do this now? Right here?

“I almost couldn’t speak when you took your helmet off— I knew I desired you, that, chances permitting, I had to have you. And every time you spoke my interest rose. Every movement you made was captivating— your loyalty, your humor, your intelligence,” Rahjim’s looking right at him and Shiro is looking anywhere but. He can’t handle this.

“For one night, I want to be the one that captivates you,” Rahjim continues, “I want to fill your senses and give you nothing but pleasure.”

“That’s so— you don’t—” Shiro stammers.

“You are a champion for peace, for justice. A symbol of hope in our dark times. Please, allow me to treat you as you should be treated,” Rahjim tilts Shiro’s chin up, to make him look at him. Shiro’s so caught up in trying not to burn up under the intense declarations that he barely notices his old title. He doesn’t even have time to get caught up in a downward spiral.

Rahjim runs his hands down Shiro’s sides, slow enough that Shiro knows for a fact he’s being felt up, “You have a beautiful body, and a desirable mind, Shiro,” the Prince says, “with your permission, I would have you— many, many times— tonight.”

Shiro agreed to a hookup. He didn’t agree to this— to wild statements or promises that should be hilariously bad, but instead leave his hands shaking and his breathing shaky and fast. He’s so hot he feels like he’s going to combust right then and there.

“Yes, yes, all of it,” Shiro agrees, “just get me out of these damn clothes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Just like earlier, despite all of the Prince’s— he’d insisted that Shiro drop the title while it was just the two of them— despite all of Rahjim’s claims that he’s been dying for the chance to fuck Shiro, just undressing takes forever.

Rahjim can’t stop running his hands over Shiro’s body— talking about how the Altean robes are cut so well and frame him so nicely. Shiro can’t stop squirming under attention like that, and what’s worse, it’s actually turning him on more. He's always enjoyed getting compliments in the bedroom— he works hard to maintain this body, after all— but this is just so excessive.

It’s a big effort to finally convince Rahjim to let Shiro undress him, and it’s not nearly as fun. Because Rahjim’s robes fall open as soon as his ornate sash is untied, and he proudly slips it off his shoulders and stands confidently naked like he’s inviting Shiro to check him out.

He’s relatively hairless— save for the fact that Shiro’s still sure his velvety skin is a result of some short fur— and overall the same color. He has four pecs, for his two sets of arms, and they appear very human-like. It’s a little disorienting to look at. There’s a line of what might be scales, or folded skin, that run down from what would be his top collarbones, between his pecs, and down to his groin. Shiro’s a little embarrassed to openly stare, but he’s been very curious. Rahjim has what looks like a slit, or small opening at his groin. Maybe it’s similar to a vagina? Shiro didn’t even think about compatibility.

“Now you’ve seen mine,” Rahjim says, and he moves forwards to kneel in front of Shiro, who’s only wearing the long skirt now, “let’s see yours. I have been looking forwards to this.”

Again Rahjim takes forever. He tugs the skirt down low enough to admire the trail of hair leading to Shiro's groin, to run his thumbs over the protrusion of Shiro's hips and take everything in like he's trying to memorize Shiro through all of his senses. If he's like this with all his lovers, Shiro can't understand why the Prince isn't married yet. Do they do marriage— like, two people unions out here? Maybe they don’t.

Then finally, finally, Rahjim pulls hard enough and the skirt pools around Shiro's ankles. Coran had insisted Shiro wear the robes in the Altean way— which meant nothing under the skirt. How very Scottish of them. Shiro had been more than embarrassed about that— and thank god the kids didn't find out or else he'd never hear the end of it. But he’d refused, and had worn underwear, but apparently Rahjim pulled his briefs off too. And… he really doesn't want to think about that or the kids right now. Not when Rahjim is looking at his dick like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen, and that he's hungry for a taste of it.

“Ah,” Rahjim says, like he's figured out a riddle, “penetrative?”

Shiro's more than half-hard, and it's a little weird to try and have a conversation with someone who's face is inches away from where they could be doing something better with their mouth.

“Yeah,” Shiro says, “that works, right? With yours?”

Rahjim furrows his brows, which obviously means it doesn't.

“Just not what I expected,” Rahjim admits, “but no less enjoyable.”

Curious, Shiro couldn't help but ask, “What were you expecting?”

Rahjim’s stroking his thighs and Shiro's having a hard time really caring about the answer.

“I had hoped to be penetrating you,” Rahjim confesses, “I was under the false assumption that I would be, apologies.”

“But don't you have a— well, to stick stuff in?” Shiro feels like he's in 8th grade, but he doesn't want to use human terms. It'll only get more confusing.

“No?” Rahjim says in confusion, and then realization dawns on him, and he looks back to Shiro's cock, inspecting it without touching, “oh! Is yours constantly out? No sheath?”

“A sheath?” Shiro repeats, “uh, no? Mine’s um, yeah, it’s out. All the time.”

“Dangerous,” Rahjim comments, and his breath washes over Shiro’s dick. He’s so close to being touched, and they keep stopping to talk. It’s… Shiro really can’t complain. He thought this would be more passionate and intense, in order to avoid small talk or any potential awkwardness. But Rahjim keeps talking with him, keeps it easy to talk, and Shiro’s enjoying being able to have conversation in between.

Rahjim’s hands trail up Shiro’s thighs, rubbing circles on his sensitive inner skin, “May I use my mouth?” he asks.

Shiro could almost whine in relief, “Please, oh god, please.”

“Have you been looking forwards to this?” Rahjim asks, clearly knowing the answer.

“Yes,” Shiro gasps, just to appease him. Because then Rahjim is leaning in, and he’s bringing up a hand to cup Shiro’s dick and he’s opening his mouth and testing with a lick. And the prince hums with curiosity, or maybe with pleasure, and then he’s taking Shiro in his mouth and he’s starting to suck.

Shiro lets his head fall back against the wall. It’s so overwhelming. It feels so good. He doesn’t know the last time he let something feel this good. Not knowing what to do with his hands has him bracing himself against the walls of the shuttle. Rahjim is blowing him happily, bobbing his head and alternating strokes between his hand and his lips. His other hands are tracing along the sensitive skin of Shiro’s inner thighs.  

Just as Shiro’s toes are curling, to the point that he feels like he might start folding into himself because it’s just so much and it feels so good, he feels Rahjim’s second tongue. It rests along the underside of his cock and— and stops. Why isn't he moving? When Shiro glances down Rahjim is looking back up at him. Waiting for his permission.

“Yes,” Shiro pants, “please.”

And then that second tongue is wrapping around him, is sending waves of sensation. He’s buzzing, tingling with new feeling and it’s so surreal mixed in with the enthusiasm of Rahjim’s oral that Shiro can’t hold back any longer. He’s been gritting his teeth, trying to stay quiet and not be embarrassing. He can’t stop. He’s panting, nearly gasping for air, and he starts moaning. It’s soft and breathy at first, the little sounds he can’t hold back. Rahjim is playing with his balls, obviously curious but not entirely clueless, and all of it mixed together is just too much. His mouth is so soft and warm, and his tongues are a soft but strong push and pull. He’s leaking spit down his face, and Shiro can’t imagine a hotter look.

This is not what he meant when he joked about meeting aliens at his going away party.

The buzzing sensation from Rahjim’s second tongue is all over his dick now, and it's making everything feel so much more intense. Shiro's hips buck forwards and he tries to hold himself back, digging his fingers tightly into any purchase of the wall behind him that he can find.

He could come like this. He genuinely could come, just right now, and this would rank highly in his list of ‘best nights of my life’.

“Ra—Rahjim,” Shiro gasps. He's not sure about space etiquette but at least on earth you warn if you're about to blow your load in someone's mouth.

Rahjim slides off of Shiro's cock and it's almost obscene how he lingers like he's worried it's the last time he'll get to have it in his mouth.

“I'm— I'm gonna—,” Shiro stammers. He needs to words. Where's his brain? Obviously sucked out by the very smug Prince kneeling in front of him.

“Do all humans orgasm this quickly, or am I causing an exception?” Rahjim asks. He sounds so pleased with himself, even though his face is wet with spit and his lips look a little swollen.

Shiro brings up his hands to cover his face. This is going to be embarrassing to admit.

“It's— it's, um,” and he feels Rahjim’s hands moving up his body as the Prince stands. He's so over sensitive that when Rahjim’s fingers ghost over a nipple his entire body jerks. His cock is still tingling with the after effects of Rahjim’s tongue, and it's almost too much to think.

“I meant no insult,” Rahjim says softly.

“It's not you,” Shiro says quickly, “I mean, it is, it really is. But for me it's… it's been a very long time.” And there, it's out. He's admitted it.

Rahjim’s quiet a moment. And then he's pulling Shiro's hands off of his face so they can look each other in the eye.

The look on Rahjim's face says that he knows exactly what Shiro means. That Shiro hasn't been with anyone since the Galra— since he was Champion. Since he was tortured and made into a monster.

Shiro's so thankful that he doesn't have to say it. He doesn't know if he could stay if he had to talk about it.

“I'm sorry,” Shiro says, “this is— let's keep going.”

If they stick to this topic he thinks he could start crying. He's too sensitive right now, with all his emotions on the surface.

Rahjim pulls him in for a tight hug. It's not what Shiro's expecting, and he's never been hugged by someone with four arms. It's a great hug, and despite the weirdness of being totally naked and with a raging hard-on, Shiro relaxes into it and holds on. He tucks his face against one of Rahjim’s collarbones and takes shaky breaths. He was a lot closer to breaking than he realized.

He's become that person who's going to cry over really good head. He's never going to be able to have sex again.

Rahjim pulls away after what feels like an absurdly long time. Shiro's embarrassed and doesn't want to look at him— maybe he can distract Rahjim with some more sex and they can forget this ever happened.

Two of Rahjim’s hands come up to cup Shiro's face between them, making him look up, “Thank you,” Rahjim says softly, seriously, “for being honest with me.” And then he's leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Shiro's lips. It's almost more intense than anything they've done so far. The kiss lasts only a moment before Rahjim pulls away, “If this— if anything— is too much, please tell me. I only want you to feel good tonight.”

Shiro wants to complain— Rahjim keeps saying shit like that and all Shiro does is keep making things weird by cracking his skull on stairs or almost starting to cry when he gets some good-natured teasing. Why Rahjim wants him, and _still_ wants him so badly is beyond him. He's a Prince! And Shiro's pretty sure a very handsome one. In comparison: Shiro's a hot mess with tears in his eyes and a tingling erection.

Rahjim leans in and he's practically nuzzling Shiro, still radiating that patient, gentle confidence that he's had all night.

“Would you like to come now? If I use my mouth? My tongue? I could go for hours if you wish,” He asks. His words are soft but they hit Shiro like cold water and Shiro sucks in staggered breaths as Rahjim continues. The Prince is running a hand in lazy circles on Shiro's lower stomach, and he can clearly feel the contracting muscles as Shiro responds to what he's saying.

“Not yet,” Shiro finally says, “I just— I just need a second.”

Rahjim hums in agreement, and presses a kiss to Shiro's temple. His arms wrap loosely around Shiro, pulling him into a light hug without feeling like he's being trapped in, and his second hands make soothing motions starting from his neck and running down his shoulders to his arms. This isn't what Shiro expected his first space hook up to be like. They stand there for a while until Shiro's sure he's not going to burst into pity-me tears the next time Rahjim starts dirty-talking at him.

“How does… how does this work for you? Sex?” Shiro asks curiously, “you said you penetrate so do you, um, ejaculate? Inside? Once only or—” and he remembers Rahjim’s words earlier and starts to blush again, “many, many times?”

“Refractory periods are short,” Rahjim explains, “we often fuck several times in a night. That's normal. And yes, we deposit inside a receptive partner.”

It's the translators at work, but Shiro feels a bit of a perverse thrill at hearing the Prince cuss.

“That's pretty similar to humans, actually,” Shiro says. This night is very surreal. His hard-on has flagged a little, though he's still mostly erect. It's pressed against Rahjim’s leg, and Shiro's pretty content to stay here with his head on Rahjim’s chest. At least, just for a few more minutes.

“Are there any surprises I should know about?” Rahjim asks, “do you have any barbs or potentially poisonous ejaculate I should be wary of?”

It's not going to stop being weird that Shiro is having sex with an alien.

“Shouldn't we have talked about that before you went down on me?” Shiro asks. He moves so he can look up at the Prince.

Rahjim smiles sheepishly, “I admit, I was willing to take the risk. I hoped you would inform me of any danger but I was too excited to get my mouth on you.”

Shiro shudders, but it feels good.

They're settling back into talking, which Shiro is okay with, but his legs feel weak and he’d really like to sit down. There's a padded bench just behind Rahjim, and Shiro takes the Prince by the hand to walk over.

“No barbs or anything— what you see is what you get, and as for—,” Shiro explains. He's about to sit down but then Rahjim pulls him— practically _lifts_ him, and puts Shiro in his lap so that they're face to face and Shiro is straddling him. A pair of Rahjim’s arms lock around Shiro's waist, holding him in.

Shiro can't remember what he was talking about. He can't believe how easily Rahjim can just keep lifting and moving him around like he weighs nothing.

“Are you okay?” The Prince asks.

“I'm— I'm not used to, to that,” Shiro admits.

“Is it okay?” Rahjim asks quickly, “I will stop if you don't like it.”

“No, it's fine. You just— you keep picking me up like I'm nothing,” Shiro laughs, “I'm just not expecting it.”

“I have a night,” Rahjim explains, “and I don't want to waste a moment more by not touching you.”

Shiro's sure he's blushing again. Rahjim’s declarations are just so much. From the look on his face, Rahjim knows exactly what he's saying.

“May I use my mouth on you again?” Rahjim asks, “I would like to make you come.”

“It might take a little while,” Shiro admits, “after I got, um, distracted.” He glances down to note his dick is at least half-hard. So nearly crying and needing to be hugged isn't a complete turn off, but he's sure that Rahjim manhandling him helped keep his dick at attention.

“I hope so,” Rahjim nearly purrs, “did you know that you taste incredible?”

“No,” Shiro replies, a little in shock. In the history of forever he doesn't think he's heard of anyone who genuinely likes the taste of come— pre or the main event— but it's just always been a necessary unpleasantness for having a good time.

Rahjim leans in to nuzzle against him again— touching their foreheads together and rubbing his soft cheek against Shiro's and pressing soft kisses to Shiro's face.

“I will gladly suck you off all night, if that will make you happy,” he says.

Holy shit.

“You can't keep saying stuff like that,” Shiro says, “there's no way you mean it.”

Rahjim pauses to look at Shiro quizzically, “That I would make you come all night on my tongue alone? Or that I want to make you happy?”

Shiro feels like an ass for calling him out now. Especially when he's sitting in Rahjim’s lap, on Rahjim’s personal ship in Rahjim’s castle and after Rahjim just gave him one of the best blowjobs of his life.

“Sorry,” Shiro says, “I didn't mean—”

“You did,” Rahjim cuts him off, “why don't you believe me when I compliment you?”

Shiro's looking away again, he doesn't know how to do this right to his face, “Because you don't know me.”

Rich, really, since Shiro's sitting naked in his lap. But it's true. They've been working together for a few days, and have been socializing briefly outside of that since Rahjim has been hosting the crew, but it's never been anything more than ‘we are allies but we’ll probably never see each other again after this’. It's been fleeting and impersonal, which is part of why Shiro can't believe Rahjim’s been after him the whole time.

Rahjim sounds confused, “I think I do—”

“You don't,” Shiro snaps. And even he's surprised by how defensive he is, and oh god here he goes. The words are tumbling out now, again, “you've only seen me as I am as the Black Paladin. As a respectful guest. But you don't know me. You don't know the things I've done or where I've been and— ow!”

Rahjim pinched his ass.

Rahjim looks pissed. And rightfully so, Shiro's the worst kind of partner: he brought all of his shit into what was supposed to be fun and casual and now he's lashing out at someone who doesn't deserve it.

“If the only people who get to know you are people who know exactly what you’ve done, and what you think, how many people is that? Who are they?”

Shiro takes one look at his angry face, looks away again, and mumbles, “No one.” Not even himself, if he’s honest. Because he doesn’t remember. He can only imagine all the horrors from the things he half-remembers or the intuition he has about fleeting sensations. And the crew can’t know— they need to trust him, to believe in him. It means they can’t know about things he’s done. And if Allura or Coran knew about how close he feels to caving all the time, they’d probably pull him from duty. And the responsibility of  being the Black Paladin is sometimes the only thing that keeps Shiro alive.

“You isolate yourself in the middle of people who care about you,” Rahjim continues, “I’ve seen your crew. They adore you. They trust you. I’ve seen _you_ and don’t think I’m not aware that I’ve only known you a short time— but it’s long enough to know your character. You are a leader of a small band creating enough noise to make the Emperor nervous. You have selflessly joined a war that your planet is not part of, just because you know it is the right thing to do. Because you can. I know the legends of Voltron, and I know that the Black Lion does not make her choices lightly. She only takes the best. And I know you have been through the Arenas, and I am so sorry you have suffered, but here you are: laughing, smiling, patient and kind.”

Shiro starts, “I don’t—”

“You don’t deserve this? Then walk away. From tonight, from the war. No one would blame you,” and Rahjim’s tone isn’t accusatory like Shiro thought it would be. It’s sad, it’s almost heartbroken, but tempered with a strength like anger, but without the burn. Like he’s certain of what he’s saying, “you have suffered enough for a lifetime, why do you choose to keep suffering?”

That… shit. He doesn’t choose to suffer. It’s just part of his life. That sounds miserable, yikes. Shiro has plenty of good days. He’s happy, mostly. Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be like? He just… these nice things Rahjim keeps saying are just… not him. They’re not meant for people like him, that’s all.

“Do you want to stay?” Rahjim asks quietly, “here?”

Shiro nods before he thinks too hard. He does want to stay even though he’s doing a really great job of being a useless partner that keeps bringing the attention back to him. And crying— not that he’s cried. He’s not crying. He had a really great track record of not not-crying though sex. All out the window now.

Rahjim’s warm hand cups Shiro’s cheek and he leans into it. It’s soft, and he does like how Rahjim keeps touching him. No matter where he looks, Shiro can’t forget that there’s someone else here with him. It makes him think about what Rahjim said about who _knows_ him, and Shiro starts to think about who touches him. Not in any sexual way, but just in general.

“What would make you happy?” Rahjim asks. And he says it so gently like he’s genuinely interested and like Shiro didn’t just bite his head off for telling him to be happy only a few minutes ago. Rahjim’s free hand runs up and down Shiro’s back in soothing motions.

Shiro doesn’t want Rahjim fawning all over him right now. He knows that the prince promised to make him happy, that the prince is dying to do so, but he doesn’t want to be the center of attention. He’s kinda been hogging it all, if he’s honest.

“I wanna touch you,” Shiro says quietly.

“Whatever you want,” Rahjim replies with a smile. He’s pulling Shiro in and they’re kissing again— Shiro’s mouth almost feels normal now from the tingling sensation earlier, but still sensitive and Rahjim’s mouth is so warm.

Rahjim pulls away, “You should check in with your crew.”

Shiro blinks a little stupidly. Check in? Oh, has it been that long already?

If it’s been longer then it’s very likely that everyone is on their way. Shit. Nope. Shiro does _not_ want them to barge in on this. He climbs off of Rahjim’s lap and starts hunting for his comm. It got tossed at some point while they were stripping. How stupid of Shiro to let it get removed in the first place? What if he was in trouble?

“Here,” Rahjim holds the comm out for Shiro. He’d set it safely to the side where it wouldn’t get lost. Now that he sees it, Shiro remembers that he’d known it was there, but had quickly gotten distracted with more kissing.

“Thanks,” Shiro smiles at him, and then slips it into his ear.

“Hello? This is Shiro, checking in,” he says.

Rahjim steps in close again and starts kissing at Shiro’s neck. Oh that feels so good.

“Shiro?” it’s Allura. Thank god. The kids would probably ask too many questions. She sounds shocked, like she didn’t expect to hear from him.

“Sorry I’m late, we were a little distrac— ah,” Rahjim bit down and is sucking _hard_ and Shiro sees stars for a second.

Allura doesn’t seem to notice his slip-up and Shiro is so thankful for that Altean obliviousness to humans. He swats at Rahjim, who shows absolutely no remorse for his actions, because he goes right back to repeating the action.

“I appreciate the call, but don’t worry about checking in. We’re enjoying ourselves here and may retire to our rooms before you’re back.”

“I’ll— oh— I’ll be back soon,” Shiro says. It’s a bit of a lie, if he’s honest, but he doesn’t want Allura to ask what’s got him up all night. He’s not sure he could come up with any sort of believable excuse at the moment.

“No rush,” Allura says cheerfully, “we are all doing fine here, and I promised Lance that he and the others could sleep in, since we are likely to be up late celebrating. So we’ll be leaving around noon. Just make sure Prince Rahjim has you back to the Castle before then.”

Shiro can barely hear her. Rahjim is biting and sucking at his neck, and he’s obviously been paying attention to Shiro’s responses to touch because he’s starting to play with Shiro’s nipples. Shiro wants to stop him but it feels so good. He should be stopping him, he’s talking to his commanding officer. He doesn’t.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” Shiro says breathlessly.

“And Shiro? Please enjoy yourself. Prince Rahjim is _famous_ — or, rather— infamous for his skills as a lover. I know that you’ll have a wonderful time.”

The line goes silent. As does Shiro’s mind.

What?

“Are you done yet?” Rahjim asks impatiently.

“Allura knows,” Shiro says in a stupor, as if there isn’t a very excited alien prince trying to give him a hickey necklace.

“Of course she knows,” Rahjim sits back to look at Shiro, “she helped me court you.”

“Court me?” Shiro furrows his brows, “you literally just took me on a fake excuse so you could bluntly ask me to hook up.”

“Exactly,” Rahjim says, like it’s obvious. And if Allura was involved, then yeah, the bluntness has her name all over it. Rahjim keeps talking, “get you away from your crew so you don’t feel obligated to turn me down out of duty, show you my ships because you are a pilot, and be direct. She was very helpful.”

“Oh my god,” Shiro covers his face in his hands, “Allura knows.” She knows that at this exact moment Shiro is having— or about to have— sex. His CO set him up.

Now her behavior when Rahjim offered the tour makes more sense. She’d known from the get-go that this was what Rahjim intended, and had just let Shiro walk right into it.

“I can’t go back to the Castle,” Shiro says, “I can’t look her in the eyes again.”

Rahjim laughs, “Enough talk of other people. She just wanted you to be happy, as do I. And I recall you saying that it would make you happy to touch me?”

Shiro pulls out the comm and tosses it onto his pile of clothes. He’s mortified. He’s going to change his name and move to a completely remote planet and live out the rest of his life as a hermit, rather than go back and try to continue on as normal when both he and Allura know she set him up for a one night stand and he _liked_ it. Is still liking it. That’ll probably encourage her to try again.

“Stay with me,” Rahjim urges, and he’s pulling Shiro along with him. They’re going back to the bench, “or I’ll be forced to make you pay attention.”

Shiro can’t help but smile, “Oh yeah?” The response is automatic, but it’s half-hearted. He’s here, he wants to be here. He’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.

And he really does want to touch Rahjim. He’s so insanely curious.

Rahjim sits down on the bench, hands on Shiro's hips and he's looking up at him. With their height difference it's not a big change, but looking down at Rahjim’s face makes Shiro feel a little important, and a little in control. He wonders if Rahjim did that on purpose.

“Tell me what to do,” Rahjim whispers.


	2. Shiro Never Really Thought He’d be on a Far Off Planet, Covered in Alien Spunk with a Dick in his Hand and Explaining Anal Sex and Yet Here He Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this chapter is probably my fav line in the whole story lmao.
> 
> but this chapter is also aka THE DICKENING
> 
> I was gonna be a little mean and cut it at Shiro's first orgasm here, but I figured Rahjim's been such a nice guy he deserves his time to shine as well.
> 
> Anyways y'all, hope you're excited to see Shiro get utterly, fucking wrecked. 
> 
> Ty so much for the overwhelmingly positive response to last chapter. I'm so glad y'all are enjoying Rahjim too. He grew on me so much but I mean, anyone who wants to make Shiro happy makes me happy. And trust me, y'all are gonna love him after this!
> 
> Happy V-Day!

“Tell me what to do,” Rahjim whispers.

Shiro's never been one to take charge in the bedroom— that's not really his style. He just likes doing what makes people happy.

“Just… just lie down, for now,” Shiro tells him. He's trying to summon up a bit of Rahjim's confidence and leans down to kiss him before the prince can comply. It's slow, but not chaste. Shiro could get lost in kissing Rahjim, but that's not what his plan is. He gives Rahjim a little push, and the prince obediently falls back.

Where to start. Where to start? He knows where he wants to end— he's can't wait to get to that place between Rahjim's legs. All this talk of sheaths and penetration has him… well, Shiro's always had a preference. He wants to get his mouth there.

Shiro straddles Rahjim again, and runs his hands down the first of Rahjim's pectorals. His skin is so soft that Shiro wants to just rub against him… which… is kind of exactly what he's doing.

He's never been great at dirty talk, so he really shouldn't be all that surprised when what he says is “You don't have nipples.”

Immediately after he thinks of a million better things to say: you're so strong, you're so soft, you're so handsome, etc.

Rahjim lifts his hands to brush his thumbs over Shiro's nipples.

“That's what these are?”

Shiro melts into the touch. His chest has always been really sensitive.

“Yeah. All humans have them. They're not— ah— necessarily for sex, but they help.” There's so much more, but Shiro really doesn't want to get into the politics of nipples.

Shiro runs his hands over where Rahjim would have nipples if he were human. There's no response from the Prince. Until he moves his hands to the strip of skin down his sternum. Rahjim's entire body shudders.

It's not scales or folded skin, like Shiro originally guessed. It's smooth— but not soft like his other skin is. Shiro traces his fingertips down, and watches Rahjim for his response. He's let his head fall back, and he's breathing faster.

“Is this sensitive?” Shiro asks.

“Yes,” Rahjim says, breathless, “be gentle.”

It must be really sensitive, or possibly delicate. Which means that there's a good potential for overstimulation. Good. Shiro leans down and presses a line of kisses down Rahjim’s body. The Prince shudders and gasps at every kiss, not at all ashamed of being loud.

Shiro moves down, kissing and sucking and trying to give back as good as he’s taken. He’s sliding back on his knees until he hits the edge of the bench. Then he’s on his knees, and facing Rahjim’s, well, his junk. Shiro’s still not sure what to make of it.

Up close he can smell what are probably pheromones— heady and musky and Shiro takes a moment to breathe deeply. There’s the slit he’d noticed earlier, and up close he can see that there’s a bit of a hood for it, similar to a clit. Okay, he can work with that. It’s only when he puts his hands on the inside of Rahjim’s thighs that he realizes he’s wet. And leaking from the slit.

Oh. So, like, very similar to a clit _and_ a vag. Shiro knows his way around those.

He leans in, and then pauses a moment. Rahjim is sitting up on his elbows and watching intently, mouth open and panting, and pupils blown wide with lust. Shiro’s really getting back into the mood, but he’s nowhere near that far gone yet. It’s a little wild to think that this alien is getting all worked up over him.

“Is there anything I should know about? Barbs? Poison?” he tries to remember what Rahjim asked but fails to come up with the whole list.

“No— nothing. You may cause me to become unsheathed, so, don’t be alarmed. Otherwise you should be fine.” Rahjim sounds like it took a lot of effort to put that sentence together. And with nothing to worry about, Shiro dives in.

He licks at the slit, going right for the center, and Rahjim’s entire body arches. He’s so slick. It’s a little sticky, a little thicker than what Shiro’s used to from humans, but he figures it’s the same sort of deal. More means he’s doing a good job. It doesn’t have much of a taste— closer to salty than anything, but he can feel it stick to his tongue and the texture is a little strange. He starts running his tongue along the edges of the slit, flicking in deeper. Rahjim’s thighs tremble around him, and Shiro strokes him soothingly. He nudges the hood with his nose— he’s covered in slick, and it’s overwhelming heavy smell— and lifts his head enough to get his lips on it and suck at it. Rahjim lets out a strangled moan.

Not to toot his own horn or anything, but, for his first time giving alien head, Shiro is doing a _great_ job. He starts using his fingers too— finds out that the slit is shallow, but _incredibly_ sensitive just inside the rim, and so really all he needs is his tongue. Rahjim is shaking from the combination of licking, sucking and even biting at the skin around his groin, and Shiro might have even heard him whimper. And Shiro’s loving this. He loves being able to please people like this. He missed being on his knees like this, getting lost like this in just making someone else feel great.

“You’re so good at this,” Rahjim purrs at one point. It’s breathless and more of a moan than words, but it makes Shiro light up and want to work harder. He’s almost sure it’s Rahjim trying to praise him more, and right now he doesn’t care. He keeps his mouth open, and keeps experimenting.

He thinks Rahjim might be close to coming. Shiro’s got no idea how long he’s been down here, but his face is covered in slick. It’s even in his eyelashes. He doesn’t want to stop until he’s given back the Prince all the niceness he’s shown him and—

Something comes out of the slit and hits Shiro in the nose.

Shiro falls back on his ass, “What the— ”

Rahjim pushes himself up quickly, though his arms are shaking and he’s flushed and panting heavily. He takes one look at Shiro’s face and bursts into laughter.

There’s a huge _tentacle_ that’s come out of the slit Shiro’s been eating out. It’s gotta be nearly as long as his forearm, and while it’s thin at the tip, it gets quite thick at the bottom. It’s the same color, and possibly the same texture as the more sensitive skin down Rahjim’s middle, and it’s dripping with slick like it’s oozing. There are lines of ridges swirling down from the tip towards the base, and Shiro immediately thinks back to what Rahjim said about his second tongue: they’re for _stimulation_.

Shiro wipes his face where he’s pretty sure the tip of Rahjim’s _tentacle dick_ went up his nose when it came out.

“Unsheathed?” he asks slowly. He can’t take his eyes off of it. It’s hanging out, and slowly curving up like a human dick, but just so much bigger. Overall it’s proportional to Rahjim’s size, but that still doesn’t mean it’s not huge to Shiro.

“I’m so sorry, I thought… I thought I had more control. I should have warned you,” Rahjim’s shoulders are still shaking with laughter, “the look on your face. Oh, what a sight.”

“Yeah,” Shiro rubs at his face again, where he can still feel the phantom impact of getting hit, “that might’ve been good.” He pushes himself back onto his knees, and finds that he’s really sore from kneeling for so long, so he continues and gets to his feet to sit down beside Rahjim on the bench. Immediately the prince wraps two arms around him to pull him close and kisses Shiro’s sticky face.

“Are you alright?” he asks. It’s a touch dramatic, and he’s smiling so it’s probably a joke.

“Just… that was unexpected,” Shiro says. And then starts laughing. The situation is setting in, and it’s _hilarious_.

Rahjim is laughing with him, and pulls Shiro back so that they’re laying side by side on the bench, with Shiro more on top of him than not.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Rahjim says. Oh, here they go again.

“Do you treat all your hook-ups like this?” Shiro asks. Again, a stupid thing to say. But he just got punched in the face by a dick so he thinks he’s allowed a dumb question.

“Everyone gets exactly what they deserve,” Rahjim replies. Which makes Shiro’s ears heat up again. And he was literally just face-first in Rahjim’s cunt. This is way more embarrassing.

Rahjim cups his jaw in a big hand and pulls Shiro down to kiss him. He doesn’t even care that Shiro’s still smeared with slick.

“Stay with me,” Rahjim insists, “what do you want next?”

Shiro looks back down to where Rahjim’s erection is standing tall.

“Can I… can I touch it?” Shiro asks.

“I insist,” Rahjim says, and Shiro snorts at that. He pushes himself up and off, so he’s sitting beside Rahjim again. The prince sits up as well, and nuzzles into Shiro’s neck so he can start sucking and biting again. It’s more than distracting to have those wet noises just below his ear, but Shiro’s determined to do this.

He’s not sure where to start, so he slides his hand down along the line between Rahjim’s hip and thigh, and spreads his fingers around the base. He’s pretty sure it’s the same kind of skin as Rahjim’s middle, but it’s almost impossible to tell under all of that slick. There’s almost no friction as Shiro runs his palm up and down the lower end of the shaft. It’s soft, he’s sure, and feels relatively rigid like his own dick when it’s hard. The ridges are interesting and he rubs his thumb over them. They’re a little harder, or just firmer, and he’s rewarded with a new wave of slick. Oh, so that’s where is comes from.

Rahjim groans into Shiro’s neck, pressing his face close and taking open-mouthed gasps of air.

“Like that?” Shiro grins. He’s pretty proud of himself. He keeps his touch light, and moves his hand back to the base to start repeating the motion, and then the tentacle moves and wraps around Shiro’s wrist.

“Um,” Shiro says, because this has never happened to him before.

Rahjim’s dick is tightening and then going loose around his hand and Shiro’s already dripping slick from his fingers. This… this might be the opposite of a handjob. The cock does all the work and the hand just… takes it.

He squeezes at the base of Rahjim’s cock, since that’s all he seems capable of doing, and Rahjim keeps moaning and biting at his throat.

This goes on until Rahjim glances down and freezes.  
“You’re not erect,” he says, sitting up, “Shiro why didn’t you tell me?”

Shiro glances down. Oh, so he isn’t. He’s been enjoying himself plenty, it just had stopped being really sexual for him. He’d known this was coming though. Between the trauma and the stress he just couldn’t keep it up.

“I’m okay,” he shrugs, “tonight’s just not my night.”

“Nonsense,” Rahjim says, “I had you earlier, and I’ll get you there again.”

It’s been long enough without it that Shiro has kinda forgotten how incredible Rahjim’s tongues feel on his dick. And it really helps when Rahjim picks him up to set him back on the bench. Rahjim spreads his legs with two hands, pushing his knees up and out to expose everything to him. Shiro’s reeling with a bit of mortification, when Rahjim’s hot mouth sinks down on him, all the way.

“Oh, oh!” come Shiro’s clever remarks.

Rahjim swallows around him, letting Shiro feel the ripple of his throat around his soft cock, and then draws back to suck and tongue at the tip. With his second tongue the sensation overload was almost too much. Shiro’s toes curl and he bucks his hips into Rahjim’s warm mouth. Rahjim’s other hands, not holding Shiro by the ankles, pin him down.

He alternates the tongues he uses, and also how deep he’s swallowing Shiro down. He’ll pull off occasionally to use his hands while he licks and bites at Shiro’s thighs— already there are some marks starting to show from earlier— and then at a few points he’ll move his attention to Shiro’s balls, and one notable moment where Rahjim’s second tongue slips to the soft skin behind his balls and Shiro jerks like he’s been electrocuted.

It takes some work. It takes a lot of spit and warm, wet mouth on his cock, but Rahjim makes good on his word. Shiro is trembling when Rahjim pulls off of him with an obscene pop.

“I would like to make you come now,” Rahjim says.

“Please,” Shiro groans.

The hands on his hips lift him, and Shiro reaches out to steady himself on Rahjim’s shoulders as the Prince lifts Shiro to straddle his lap. Rahjim’s cock curls on Shiro’s thigh, as wet as ever. Rahjim kisses him deeply, sliding his tongue into Shiro’s mouth until his whole mouth is buzzing again.

He feels, because he is otherwise distracted, as Rahjim’s dick moves and slowly curls around his own. That thick slick is warm and the curl is tight, and Shiro gives an experimental thrust. It’s so wet that there isn’t anything to rub against, but the pressure around his cock increases and Rahjim squeezes tighter and kisses harder, and oh, _oh_ that feels great. Rahjim uses one pair of hands on Shiro’s ass to help move his hips, more or less fucking Shiro on his own cock.

Shiro keeps trying to kiss but the sensations are too much. He’s gasping for breath as Rahjim kisses his open mouth. The slick sound of their cocks together is absolutely obscene, and apart from their panting it’s the only other sound echoing in the ship.

“You are so good,” Rahjim whispers between kisses, “you are so good and beautiful.” And more, he’s saying so much more and it’s all nonsense. It has to be the heat of the moment. Yet it all catches in Shiro’s throat, right under his collarbone, and it’s like a bright light radiating warmth through his body.

“I’m, I’m going to—,” Shiro gasps.

“Good. Let go, you deserve it,” Rahjim says.

Shiro ducks his head, to tuck into Rahjim’s throat when he comes. Rahjim holds him steady with two hands, holding Shiro like he’s delicate and using his other hands to keep moving Shiro’s hips.

Rahjim’s looking at him with that open adoration like he believes all of the good things he keeps saying about Shiro.

“Come for me Shiro,” Rahjim orders.

And that’s it. That’s the final straw. His back arches and he clenches his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to see Rahjim watch him come apart. His orgasm feels like lightning, like it’s taken forever to get here. It wrings him out, stretches him thin and makes his mind go blank. By the time he comes down from it he’s sure he’s lost another year, and he’s slumped against Rahjim and shaking. Rahjim’s dick is still squeezing and releasing around his cock, milking him for whatever he has left. It’s not rough enough to be overstimulating, but it’s still a lot of sensation. Shiro moans softly, it’s nearly a whimper.

Rahjim lifts his head to kiss him again. It’s softer, even though he’s still fucking him, and he hasn’t come yet. They kiss a few more times until Shiro starts to feel more like himself.

“That’s a good boy,” Rahjim says.

“‘M not a dog,” Shiro mutters, even though the words send a signal right down to his dick. It’s too early, but clearly there’s a connection there.

“You’re perfect,” Rahjim replies, and kisses him again. Shiro’s legitimately getting butterflies from this. How the hell does Rahjim know what to say to get this kind of reaction?

They keep kissing and Rahjim keeps whispering things in between. Shiro’s feeling shaky and sweaty, and his thighs are covered in slick now and ache from being stretched out across Rahjim’s lap. Rahjim seems to understand because he leans back so they’re lying down now, and Shiro readjusts himself to curl along Rahjim’s side. Rahjim’s cock finally lets his go, and there’s a string of slick still connecting them. Rahjim’s stomach and cock are dripping with strips of Shiro’s come. It’s all kinds of gross… except it’s also pretty hot.

“Oh my god,” Shiro says weakly, “I just had sex with an alien.”

“You’re going to have much more sex before I let you go,” Rahjim assures him. Shiro shivers, but it’s the good kind of shudder.

Rahjim rolls onto his side to prop himself onto an elbow to look down at Shiro. Shiro’s very aware of his cock tracing wet trails on Shiro’s hip and thigh.

“How long will it take before you can come again? And how many times can you come in one night?”

Shiro reaches down and lets Rahjim’s cock wrap around his hand. It starts doing the squeeze-slack thing it was doing on his cock earlier. Rahjim’s whole body shudders and Shiro smiles up at him. He’s not selfish, he’ll make sure his partner gets to come too.

“Um, I think I did three once. When I was a lot younger,” he admits, “I… I might have one more in me, but I don’t know. I didn’t even know if I had that first one.”

“We will have to find out,” Rahjim grins, “but I know many ways to make you feel good without orgasm. We’ll continue until you can handle no more.”

The way he says it, like he’s certain that he can make Shiro so senseless, is really, really hot.

“I really want you to fuck me with this,” Shiro says, and he gives Rahjim’s cock a light squeeze.

“I wish I could,” Rahjim sighs, “but alas our anatomy evades us.”

Right. Shiro keeps having to remember that Rahjim doesn’t know anything about humans. He’s guessing at everything he does, just like Shiro. Which means he doesn’t know about human anatomy, or how humans have been fucking around with it since the dawn of man.

“Um,” Shiro says slowly, “about that.”

Even Rahjim’s cock in his hand goes still as all of the Prince’s attention focuses on Shiro.

Shiro never really thought he’d be on a far off planet, covered in alien spunk with a dick in his hand and explaining anal sex. He covers the basics, and enough that Rahjim knows what he’s getting into. Literally.

Shiro’s just a master of unappealing sex topics. It’s a miracle that Rahjim’s erection doesn’t flag at all, and instead Shiro's pretty sure it gets tighter on his wrist.

“It’ll just… it’s been a long time. I’ll need a lot of prep, especially for, for this,” Shiro explains.

“Will it feel good for you?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro closes his eyes and thinks about being fucked by an alien who can hold him like he weighs nothing, and embarrassingly, he thinks about all the nice things Rahjim might say to him.

Shiro moans at the thought, and he's not sure if it's over the cock or the compliments, “Yeah, yeah I want you to so bad.”

Rahjim nearly tackles Shiro to kiss him.  
  


* * *

 

They lose a lot of time to making out. And just slowly rutting against each other now that there’s no clothes or anything to separate their cocks tracing against one another. Shiro explains that he'll need a lot of lube to make everything work smoothly, pun intended, and thankfully Rahjim came prepared. Also, pun intended. They spend a little bit laughing at their own jokes.

Rahjim’s currently got Shiro on his back, with his hips in the air by Rahjim’s hands so that his cock can trail down between Shiro's legs and slime everything. Shiro really needs to use his fingers to start stretching himself, or else they're going to have to wait longer, but Rahjim doesn't want to stop kissing him and Shiro can't complain.

Rahjim eventually lets Shiro push him off, and then they're stuck with that awkward time where Shiro needs to stick fingers up his ass, and they need to make small talk.

“This, uh, we might have ruined this,” Shiro admits, looking down at the bench. It's soaked with slime and some of Shiro's come that had dripped onto the material.

“It’s waterproof,” Rahjim shrugs, “but we can move somewhere else.”

They were supposed to find a bedroom after all. But that's going to mean putting clothes on and Shiro doesn't want to touch that stupid Altean collar and cape until he absolutely has to.

“What is the best way to do this?” Rahjim inquires.

Shiro thinks for a moment, “Probably with me on top, so I can control how fast we go.”

Rahjim lifts his head, “there are crew bunks at the back of the ship. We can use those beds. And the freshers— there's a shower I'm sure we can make use of.”

They'll probably be comfier than trying to angle into any of the seats lining the sides of the ship, with all the harnesses and buckles that could get in the way.

Wait. A seat?

Shiro sits up slowly.

“Could we…” he starts slowly, because this is Rahjim’s cleaning bill after all, “um… the cockpit?”

Rahjim’s returning smile is absolutely wicked, “You truly are a pilot.”

Shiro's cheeks are hot and he's sure he's blushing across his chest. He's a pilot. This comes with the territory— and getting fucked in a cockpit has been one of his fantasies since he was old enough to start thinking about these things.

It's a struggle to get there, as Rahjim seems to like making everything draw out and take its time. Shiro insists on walking so that Rahjim can't get distracted, and the Prince still finds ways to pin him to the walls— very cold, they discover quickly— and grind against him. Or pick him up or try to convince Shiro to let him blow him a little bit. It's a weird feeling to be walking freely, totally naked, through a ship.

The cockpit is made for two people— pilot and copilot— and as such there are two seats to choose from. Shiro gets a little distracted by the controls, and immediately starts trying to figure out how he’d fly or translate controls or what's probably completely different. Rahjim takes a seat, and he tries to wait patiently, but in the small space it's not hard for him to keep at least one hand on Shiro and he starts trying to pull Shiro back to him.

The view screen is dark, thankfully, and tinted to keep them from being seen. Or maybe it's the equivalent of having screens drawn. Shiro hadn't thought about what he’d do if they could have been seen by anyone just walking by.

The cockpit is a lot cooler than the main part of the ship, which had warmed considerably with their combined body heat and activity. While Shiro’s still running on a post-orgasm high, he's feeling the cold and it makes Rahjim’s embrace more enticing than buttons.

He climbs into the pilots chair, straddling Rahjim again. His thighs are already aching a bit at the stretch, he's been in this position quite a few times tonight, but it's a good kind of burn.

“This is, well, some people know how to make this sexy but it… I just need some time. I'll tell you when I'm ready,” Shiro explains. Rahjim’s cock is curled up Shiro’s thigh and the tip is resting against his lower stomach. It's dried a little bit in the walk over, but it probably won't stay that way for long. Shiro runs his hand along the length of it, paying attention to the nubs that secrete the slick. He's rewarded when Rahjim sighs happily, and a new layer of alien precome coats his hand.

Shiro's never actually done this with his left hand before, but he doesn't want to risk the right getting gunked up.

Rahjim saves him the embarrassment of being completely on display as he starts fingering himself, by going back to attacking Shiro's neck like he's determined to leave no spot unmarked. Shiro's going to have to wear scarfs for life.

But it feels so good, coupled with the sensation of Rahjim’s second tongue warm and _tingly_ on his skin, and Rahjim’s warm hands on his body, that he feels maybe a little bit sexy as he reaches back and tries to get started.

His ass is so slick that Shiro might be grossed out in a different scenario. There's not much to do but ride the good feeling of Rahjim’s fingers curling lightly around his dick, and then Shiro’s trying to push in. Just a little. It's been so long he doesn't want to rush things.

One finger goes in nicely, and it's just enough of a stretch that Shiro’s body starts to remember how much he loved this. He doesn't wait to let himself adjust— they've wasted enough time— and he quickly moves to two fingers. It doesn't hurt, there's too much lube for it to burn, but the feeling of being stretched out, of slowly working his fingers in and out, flexing them bit by bit, has his eyelids fluttering shut and a soft moan escaping him. He hasn't quite forgotten how nice it feels, but it's been long enough that the memories had dulled. The real thing, right in the moment, with a firm hand cradling his balls and the firm press of eager teeth to his throat, is so much better.

He doesn't want to rush and accidentally hurt himself, which wouldn't be out of line for Shiro's number of blunders tonight, but he wants to get fucked so badly that his whole body is hot for it. He pushes deeper with two fingers, stretching and imagining how great Rahjim’s cock is going to feel, and even just how different it's going to be. He’s rocking against his own fingers, just a little.

Shiro's so focused on the newfound feeling of being stretched out that he doesn't realize Rahjim’s stopped kissing him. Not until Rahjim whispers something that could be a prayer, and Shiro manages to crack his eyes open.

Rahjim is looking up at him, taking in the entire sight of him like Shiro in this moment is the greatest thing he's ever seen. It's such an honest, awed look that Shiro can't hold the gaze, and wants to shrink away. On reflex he starts to pull his fingers out— and that feels so good he gasps, and bites his lower lip to stop himself.

One of Rahjim’s hands slides around, and Shiro feels as his fingers trace where Shiro has himself open still.

“How much longer?” Rahjim asks. He sounds uncharacteristically strained, like it's killing him to not fuck Shiro right now. Maybe Shiro's just projecting.

“I… not long,” Shiro's having a hard time thinking with Rahjim’s fingers putting gentle pressure around his rim and trailing in the slick coating Shiro's fingers.

“May I help?” Rahjim asks. It sounds more like a plea, like he's begging. Shiro can't imagine someone being that desperate to fuck him, especially someone who for sure has his pick of potential partners.

Shiro hesitates on saying yes, if only because he should be the one to prep himself. It's kind of unappealing and awkward to just sit and let someone else do all the work. Rahjim’s done pretty much all the work tonight.

“Let me help,” Rahjim insists, and Shiro wants to say that he can do it himself, it's fine, but then Rahjim says, “please.”

“Go slow,” Shiro says, shaky, “and be— be gentle.”

“Instruct me,” Rahjim says. And he's felt where Shiro's fingers are inside him, he's traced along the rim, and he's lining up his finger and he's slowly, god it's so slow and the stretch feels so good, and he's pushing in.

Shiro hisses, and fights to stay still when his body can't decide whether to flinch away or arch into the touch. Rahjim freezes, watching Shiro intensely and he waits for Shiro's body to relax and settle down again.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Rahjim asks.

“Yeah, I'm so good it's just been a wh—oh, oh,” And Rahjim’s finger slides in a little further, to the first knuckle and Shiro goes a little brain dead. Rahjim has slender hands, but he's still bigger than Shiro and so his fingers are thicker. Now there's three fingers inside him and they're on the verge of almost being too much but it feels so good that Shiro's already thinking about adding more.

“If you curl— curl your— and just pull a little— ah, god, yes. Just like tha— oh fuck yeah.”

Shiro's trying to be coherent. Rahjim's been fine even though he's fucked Shiro through an orgasm and still hasn't gotten off. Shiro doesn't mean to be a greedy partner.

Rahjim's getting the hang of what he's doing, and he's working his finger a little rougher than Shiro has been on himself. And the feel of it, of that push and knowing how strong the Prince is, and the burn of it all is making it so hard for Shiro to think in complete sentences. He can't close his mouth because he keeps gasping for breath and it's making it easier for breathy moans to escape him. He's rocking back against their hands, feeling incredibly wanton and aware he should be a little embarrassed at himself— getting fingerfucked in the Princes lap and losing his mind like this.

“Forget everything I had planned,” Rahjim says, still sounding a little awed, “I will do this to you all night.”

It's not fair that Rahjim can still talk. Shiro's not sure he can even pretend to be thinking clearly. He feels a flush of shame, across his cheeks and spreading down his chest, that Rahjim’s getting absolutely nothing from this except just watching Shiro writhe around in his lap. It speaks volumes to how far gone Shiro is that he thinks maybe he should at least try and out on a show, to give the Prince something for letting Shiro use his hand like this.

Shiro leans back against Rahjim's grip on his hips, trusting that the Prince can support his weight, and uses his right hand to start rubbing at his nipple. It all feels so good, so much, he’s on the verge of nearly too much but he doesn't want it to ever end. He feels silly, but he tries to moan a little louder, to be a little more dramatic and expressive.

Then Rahjim hits his prostate.

Shiro yells. There's a _crack_ like something broke but his vision has gone white and for a moment he thinks he definitely came again. Or maybe he just died.

As he comes down he realizes Rahjim is staring up at him in shock. Shiro's panting now like he's run a mile. He lowers his arm and— wait, when did he? Shiro glances up. He’d punched straight up and left a dent in the upper console. Shit.

Shame floods Shiro and he's coming down from the high so fast he's crashing.

“I'm so sorry,” he stammers, “I didn't mean—”

“Did you like that?” Rahjim interrupts, eyes wide with shock. He probably thought Shiro was about to die with how he responded.

Shiro drags his hand down his face and means to sit back, but he's still got three fingers shoved deep inside of him so that's out of the question. He's just stuck here like an idiot who just started screaming and scared the life out of his alien partner.

“Yeah, it feels really good and—”

Rahjim immediately strokes his prostate again.

Shiro manages not to break anything this time. At least he hopes so because as soon as he starts coming back to himself, Rahjim does it again. And again. And again. Until Shiro's shaking, and he has to pull his left hand free and that alone makes him moan at the feeling. And he has to brace himself on the headrest of the chair because he can't stay upright. He's shouting, he's moaning and he wants to rock or move away but Rahjim is holding him firmly in place and forcing Shiro to endure the onslaught.

Shiro curls forwards, pressing his face into Rahjim’s collarbone and Rahjim doesn't let up. Shiro's whole body is like a lightning rod, he thinks he might pull _all_ of his muscles with how tense he gets at the rough touches. Rahjim works in a second finger, and he's thrusting in and out, and then rubbing hard. The wet sounds of his fingers moving in the slick is downright obscene, and in the moments when Shiro has enough of himself together to bite his tongue and stop being so embarrassingly loud, it's the only other sound in the cockpit. But then Rahjim will notice he's gone quiet and work at his prostate again until Shiro is nearly screaming.

Through it all Shiro holds on because this is the greatest moment of his life. He's never felt this good, this overwhelmed, and he's never going to feel this way again. It's so good, it's a tidal wave every time and he can only bear so much abuse. Rahjim’s cock has wrapped around his again, and it's squeezing and moving against him, but not in tandem with Rahjim’s fingers and the unpredictability of it is driving Shiro insane. It's so overwhelmingly _good_ that the longer this goes on it's starting to veer on the edge of pain.

“Enough,” Shiro gasps, just as Rahjim strokes him again and Shiro keens loudly before he can find the word again, “enough!”

He's whimpering. His begging. He can't handle any more. His whole body is shaking.

Rahjim stops, though he doesn't remove his fingers. Shiro gasps for air, taking stock of where he is. With his head down he's watching Rahjim’s cock fucking his own. He's dripping precome and so hard he thinks he might burst with one touch. His thighs are wet and glistening from Rahjim’s lube.

Shiro lifts his head and is startled when tears fall from his eyes. His eyes must have been watering. Rahjim ducks his head to press their foreheads together.

“You were so close to coming,” Rahjim says, “I've never seen anything quite as beautiful.”

Shiro's still flying high on overstimulation. The complement makes him whimper.

They kiss again. Shiro can barely keep up. He's still panting, unable to get his breath. But he needs. He needs so badly.

“Please fuck me,” Shiro begs.

Rahjim pulls his fingers free and that makes Shiro gasp. He's empty now, he needs something inside of him before he loses his mind.

“Yes,” Rahjim agrees, and he's lifting Shiro up by the hips from his slouched position, moving forwards so he's perched on the edge of the chair and Shiro's legs can wrap around his waist.

“Wait,” Shiro has enough sense to realize this isn't what he intended. He can't get his knees under him— he needs to hold onto the headrest to for leverage to lower himself down, “wait I need to— my legs.”

“Trust me,” Rahjim whispers, “let me take care of you.”

It makes Shiro freeze. He's… he's quite vulnerable like this. And if Rahjim isn't careful this could still really hurt, and there's not much Shiro could do except physically fight his way out. And right now he's not even confident in his ability to do that.

But Rahjim has been nothing but patient and observant. He's done nothing that Shiro hasn't asked, and stopped the moment Shiro feels nervous. He always checks if Shiro is comfortable with anything he does.

He's warranted at least a little trust.

Shiro nods softly, “Okay.”

He wraps his arms around Rahjim’s neck, and hooks his legs loosely around his waist. Rahjim is holding him up by his upper thighs, and it's leaving Shiro feeling very exposed. One of Rahjim's other hands is on Shiro's back, petting soothing lines into his shaking muscles, and the other reaches down to Shiro's ass and spreads him open even further.

Shiro's taking shaky breaths and he's really not sure he can do this now. Rahjim asked for trust. Shiro wants to trust him.

There's a tentative touch of Rahjim’s cock, following Rahjim’s fingers to find where it needs to be, and then it's pushing in past the ring of muscle. Shiro's toes curl and he sucks in a ragged breath.

“I've got you,” Rahjim whispers, and presses a kiss to Shiro's temple.

At first it feels no more than a finger, but it keeps going. Then it feels like he's being stretched over two fingers, and there's _still_ more. The slow slide of it, and the bumps catching on Shiro's rim make him shudder with sensation. It's so wet that Rahjim is nearly gliding in.

He's lowering Shiro onto his cock slowly, with no sign that he's barely restraining himself. Rahjim’s breathing changes, only slightly, but his voice doesn't waver even when he starts talking again.

“You feel so good,” he says, and he's kissing Shiro's shoulder, his cheek, his lips, in between words, “you're so warm and tight and you are so good. You're being so good.”

Shiro whimpers.

They're getting to the thicker part of Rahjim’s cock, it's stretching him further than their fingers had. It doesn't hurt, it's just shy of pain but in a good way. Rahjim slides his cock out, just a little bit, to take away the stretch, and then he moves back in.

Rahjim chuckles, a little breathless, “Good, good. You're taking it all so good. Just tell me if it's too much.”

Shiro presses his face into Rahjim’s shoulder. He never wants this to end. Rahjim hasn't even gotten his whole cock in yet and this is already as deeply as Shiro's ever been fucked.

He keeps up that pace— of pushing in, just to the point that Shiro starts to feel the edge of what could be pain, and then he pulls out, and fucks back up to that point. Until Shiro's relaxed enough to take more. And there's always more. God, Rahjim’s dick is so big. Shiro starts to wonder why he thought this was such a good idea, but the slide of that ridged cock in and out of him makes his head fall back and he doesn't care anymore. He wants it all.

Rahjim's still lowering him, inch by inch, and Shiro's digging the nails of his left hand into Rahjim’s back. He's afraid of what he might do with the right. He keeps his fist clenched, rests his arm over Rahjim's shoulder but doesn't touch him with it.

It feels like hours have passed. Rahjim keeps whispering compliments that make Shiro shudder, keeps asking if Shiro’s okay. Asks for Shiro to let go, to be loud. And Shiro wants to obey. Then finally, finally, Rahjim bottoms out. Shiro’s shaking, he’s so full. All four of Rahjim’s hands are running over him, petting and soothing. On his thighs, his back, his neck, his shoulders, Rahjim nuzzles down to kiss him and it’s hungry, he _wants_ and Shiro _wants_ and he still doesn’t move until Shiro pulls back, and in a strained voice, cracked with how far-gone he is, begs, “Please.”

Rahjim moves slowly at first, just a little roll of his hips. It’s no more than a grind and it feels momentous, incredible. Shiro keens, surprising himself, and it spurs Rahjim on. He snaps his hips up a little harder, nearly bouncing Shiro in his lap. Shiro clings tighter to him, the movement causing his hand to slip. He’s sure he’s leaving marks down Rahjim’s back. He doesn’t care. Rahjim’s hands go back under Shiro’s thighs and then he’s lifting him up and bringing him down to match the upwards thrust of his hips. Shiro’s jolted into moaning, outright. He wants to hold it in, but his jaw is slack with pleasure and he can’t think of any words to even describe how good this is.

Shiro’s overwhelmed. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet drag of Rahjim’s cock that’s so thick it’s driving louder and louder moans out of Shiro. He’s close to yelling. Rahjim keeps whispering what should just be sweet nothings, small compliments that are getting increasingly raunchy, and they’re stimming out Shiro’s mind faster than he can process them. His cock is leaking and it’s dragging against Rahjim’s sensitive skin, and he’s leaking a mess. The grind isn’t good enough, he needs to touch himself— he needs to be _touched_ he needs to come— but he can’t let go of his grip on Rahjim with the way he’s being fucked up into. Shiro distantly realizes he’s begging, he’s almost crying. He’s so close but he just— he just needs—

“I’m going to let you come now,” Rahjim says and then his dick does _something_ inside of Shiro and one of the ridges on it presses hard against Shiro’s prostate and Shiro starts screaming.

* * *

 

“ ‘ve never… without touch… b’fore,” Shiro mumbles as he comes back to life. He must have died. That was a full out of body experience. He’s slumped boneless against Rahjim’s chest, still completely bottomed out on his dick. Rahjim’s covered in Shiro’s come, and Shiro’s also getting covered from laying down in it, but he doesn’t care. He should feel bad about this— Rahjim _still_ hasn’t come and Shiro’s gotten to twice now, but that was the best orgasm of his life. Also, it killed him. He’s allowed to be a little selfish when he’s dead.

“I didn’t think I could see you relax,” Rahjim admits, and it’s a joke. At least, Shiro assumes it is. Everyone is always telling him to relax— and he does— when it’s appropriate. But not like this.

Rahjim brushes a tear off Shiro’s cheek and Shiro realizes he probably cried through his orgasm. He turns to bury his face against Rahjim’s shoulder. He’s so embarrassing, he’d like to go back to being dead, thank you very much.

Rahjim’s dick rubs his prostate again, not as hard, but it’s too much too soon and Shiro jolts with a shout.

“Don’t go away,” Rahjim instructs, “stay with me.”

Shiro’s chest is heaving. That was the best worst punishment. He has half a mind to ask Rahjim to do it again.

“I’m here,” Shiro finally says.

They kiss again. Shiro’s getting really used to kissing him. Shiro really _likes_ kissing him. Kissing is something he wasn’t sure he would be able to do anytime soon.

Rahjim is the one to break the kiss this time.

“I have a request,” he says.

Shiro can’t imagine anything better than this. Maybe a shower and possibly a bed, but save for the burn of Rahjim stretching him out still, Shiro’s just about ready to fall asleep.

Rahjim takes a breath before continuing, “If it’s acceptable, I would like to come inside you.”

Shiro shivers and lets out a soft moan, “Yeah,” he says, and pushes himself back upright, “yeah, please. I forgot you haven’t— ‘m sorry I’ve been so self—”

Rahjim hits his prostate again. Harder. It’s worse than the first tease because Shiro’s still so overstimulated from his orgasm.

When Shiro can breathe again Rahjim asks again.

“Would you like me to come in you?”

Shiro nods meekly. He doesn’t know if he can talk. The thought of Rahjim continuing to fuck him while he’s so sensitive like this feels like it’s going to be the most excruciating pleasure he’s ever had.

“While I don’t believe our species are compatible, is it possible for you to conceive?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro snorts at the idea of an alien baby, and shakes his head. Thank god someone else is thinking of the logistics. Shiro can’t think beyond how he wants to feel Rahjim come inside him.

“I will need to change positions,” Rahjim admits, “but I want to take it slow.”

“You take everything slow,” Shiro mumbles. He’s not going to get fucked hard? He wants it hard. The first time went so well, after all.

“So I don’t hurt you,” Rahjim finishes with a grin, “and because I need to savor you.”

Shiro wants to roll his eyes because that’s so impossibly cheesy. But he did just get fucked to death by the guy, who still hasn’t come once tonight, so maybe he’ll allow this one compliment.

“I wanna do it now. What do you need?” Shiro asks.

“Are you sure? We can wait,” Rahjim says, “until it’s not too much for—.

“Now,” Shiro demands, and he feels a little spoiled when Rahjim agrees. He keeps getting what he wants. It’s nice.

Rahjim’s hands go to Shiro’s waist, holding him securely like a harness.

“Just lean back,” he instructs.

That’s easier said than done. Shiro’s feet are still braced on the chair behind Rahjim, and leaning back goes way past his center of gravity. He’s literally being held up by Rahjim alone.

He hasn’t been dropped yet. So Shiro takes a nervous breath and leans back, reaching out to put his hands on the dashboard behind him to support himself. The new angle shifts the feeling of Rahjim’s cock inside of him and he hisses.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Rahjim says.

Shiro nods, “I trust you.”

Rahjim starts slowly, the smallest of movement at his hips. It’s still enough that with each wet drag of his cock from Shiro’s body it makes Shiro hiss and tense up. He’s so sensitive it’s all on the wrong side of the edge of pain. He tilts his head back and clenches his eyes shut before they water up again.

“Keep going, don’t stop,” Shiro grits out, “I’m okay.”

Rahjim obeys. Shiro’s thankful to have somewhere to put his right arm now, because he’s sure the left won’t support him at all. He doesn’t even need his arms, truthfully, because Rahjim’s holding him up and moving him to meet his thrusts. The movements get bigger before Shiro thinks he’s really ready. His toes are curling, his thighs locking. He wants to get away from it, but he doesn’t want it to stop. This is the best kind of torture. And he’s sure Rahjim wanted him to lean back so Shiro couldn’t hide from him by curling up. He wants to watch all of this.

Which is… in all honesty it kind of turns Shiro on. And the fact that it does surprises him.

Rahjim leans forwards, it tilts Shiro’s hips and buries Rahjim’s cock deeper into Shiro, and before Shiro can ask what he’s doing he feels the rough swipe of Rahjim’s second tongue across his nipple.

“Shit!” Shiro hisses. It feels like it’s burning and he needs Rahjim to do it again. And because the prince’s mission in life is to apparently fuck Shiro into oblivion, he does. And he keeps thrusting. He sucks and bites at one nipple, and uses his hand at the other. He’d definitely paid attention when Shiro was touching himself.

If not for Rahjim’s hands holding him up Shiro would have collapsed under the onslaught. He cries out, begs for it not to stop, even when his eyes get watery and he insists he’s not crying. Rahjim doesn’t stop. The thrusts don’t get harder than this, he’s not slamming Shiro up and down as a means to achieve the end, but it’s a continuous steady motion that’s well on it’s way to killing Shiro again. If he could open his eyes, or pay attention to anything outside of where Rahjim is touching him, Shiro would look to see if he’s getting hard again. There’s no way he should be able to, but if there was anything that would get him there a third time, it would be this.

Finally, finally he’s fucked out of the overstimulation. It eases away from that edge of pain, and more to contentment. Shiro’s cries become moans and he’s rocking against Rahjim’s thrusts. He wants it harder.

“Are you ready?” Rahjim asks, “to switch?”

Shiro nods, “How do you want me?”

“What’s good for you?” Rahjim asks immediately.

Shiro swallows, and shakes his head, “I… I don’t think I can, right now,” and a quick glance down confirms. He’s not even half-hard, and it’s impossible to tell if it’s from actual interest, or leftover from his orgasm earlier, “so what’s best for you?”

“Me on top,” Rahjim says, “you on all fours, or on your back, so I can stand.”

It’s not that hard of a choice. While the idea of Rahjim gripping him tightly by the hips, hard enough to bruise, and fucking him until Shiro forgets his own name is _super_ appealing, Shiro’s pretty sure he’s gonna eat shit if he tries to support himself right now.

“My back,” Shiro says, and adds, “I wanna see you come.” There, he managed to have one good line.

The chair they’re in is covered in Rahjim’s spunk. Shiro’s not looking forwards to laying in it.

“Can we— can we use the other chair?” he asks.

Rahjim nods, and Shiro can feel it when he braces to stand. Shiro’s entirely unprepared for when Rahjim lifts him up, and slides his cock completely out of him in one smooth motion.

It’s jarring, it’s almost as bad as if Rahjim has just shoved his cock in without warning. Shiro’s empty, he feels loose and wrong like this and his brain is scrambling to catch up to every single bit of the movement that he felt as Rahjim pulled out.

The cockpit is too small for Rahjim and Shiro to both be moving around, and so Rahjim sets Shiro down and lets Shiro get over to the other chair before he moves. Shiro’s legs barely hold him up, especially after that unexpected pull out, and so he nearly crawls into the chair and turns to face Rahjim. The Prince is looming over him, and Shiro notes that even with Shiro in the chair, Rahjim is still just a little bit taller than the perfect height for this. It means they’ll have to be creative.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro spreads his legs and, god, he feels so cold and hollow right now, “I need you to get back inside  me.”

Rahjim pulls on Shiro’s ankles, tugging Shiro down onto his back so his legs are in the air, and it should feel ridiculous with the alien leaning over him, bracing his arms on the armrests of the chair. It doesn’t. Rahjim’s cock finds it’s way to Shiro’s entrance again and then he’s pushing in, he’s sliding further and further and the stretch is back and Rahjim doesn’t stop. He keeps pressing in until he bottoms out.

Shiro moans at the feeling. He feels high strung, in a good way. It felt so good to have Rahjim sliding home like that. Apparently Rahjim agrees— how does he keep nearly reading Shiro’s mind?— because he slides out of Shiro again, and then thrusts all the way back in. The slick sounds of his cock moving in and out of Shiro fill the room again.

Shiro’s back arches and his moans get louder, a little less breathless and more outright response. Thank god Rahjim hadn’t done this while he was overstimulated, Shiro would have had a heart attack and died. With the size of Rahjim’s cock, the drag of him moving in or out goes on forever. It’s perfect for getting fucked on.

But, Shiro manages to think, it’s not that good for _fucking_. And they’re doing this for Rahjim to come.

“Rahjim,” Shiro growls, “if you don’t fuck me til you come in me, I swear I’ll fight you.”

He’s trying for conversational but it comes out as a snarl.

Rahjim pauses a moment, possibly in shock. Shiro’s really shit at bedroom talk, and it’s just like him to threaten the dude who’s dicked him so good he thought he died. Still kind of thinks that.

“I won’t be very nice,” Rahjim admits.

Shiro’s a little concerned by how much that turns him on.

But he figures Rahjim needs a little encouragement to not be nice. And so Shiro holds eye contact as he says, “I want you to wreck me”

Rahjim inhales a deep breath and closes his eyes. He’s mumbling something but Shiro can’t hear it. When he opens his eyes he looks solemn.

“You asked for it,” he says. It almost sounds like a threat. Shiro feels a chill go down his spine— and it goes right to his dick. Oh… okay. He _likes_ that kind of threat.

Rahjim pushes Shiro’s legs further apart— it’s on the verge of being too uncomfortable, and up higher so that Shiro’s ass is totally in the air. And then Rahjim is leaning over him, and he’s grabbing Shiro by the thighs, and he’s snapping his hips with no regards for the half-formed moans that Shiro keeps trying to get out, but then the angle changes and Shiro can’t keep up. There’s no rhythm to Rahjim’s thrusts, they’re just never-ending.

He pulls Shiro’s thighs higher, so he can put one of Shiro’s legs over his shoulder and then he’s nearly bending Shiro in half. Thrusting down into him with the strength and force that he’s been using to be so gentle with, that are now an unending tirade of not-quite touches that just skim what Shiro wants, and instead go for what Rahjim can take.

Shiro has a moment to think: it’s pretty hot. To be manhandled like this. To know someone is wringing pleasure from your body, and it’s a little bit hotter that Rahjim is supposed to be selfishly just doing this for himself and not at all for Shiro.

And it feels good. That thick stretch of Rahjim’s cock, the feel of his hips slapping against Shiro’s skin again and again and again. His vice-like grip on Shiro’s hips. They’re all on par with how Shiro felt before when he was fucking Rahjim.

And where Rahjim had put Shiro out of his mind with pleasure by now, Shiro realizes, Rahjim is still… he’s still going. He’s still fucking. And Shiro remembers that while he’s come twice tonight, Rahjim has been fucking him all night and he still hasn’t come. He’s got incredible stamina and— and this is going to take a while.

Shiro’s whole body rocks with the force of Rahjim’s thrusts, and his cock stretches him wide every time he pushes in deep. The rapid in-and-out of the ridges on Rahjim’s cock are hitting Shiro’s rim and it’s making him nearly hyperventilate. It feels so good, but it’s not _enough_ , and Rahjim isn’t giving him any more than that. Because he’s just taking, because Shiro just wants him to take and Shiro really shouldn’t be so turned on by the idea of just being fucked with no regard for his own needs, but he’s loving this.

There’s slick spilling over Shiro’s thighs from Rahjim’s cock. It’s dripping down his back and even onto his stomach. The sound of Rahjim’s cock pulling out and forcing its way back inside of him is nearly disgusting. And Rahjim’s still going. He’s panting, breathing hard with exertion and his grips on Shiro are almost painfully tight. Shiro’s getting to be too stimulated. It’s just enough to keep him interested, like hearing a faint, constant noice. It’s nothing he can’t handle at first, the constant stretching of Rahjim’s cock moving in and out and in and out, but it keeps going. And going. It’s not stopping and Shiro’s starting to fidget because he needs _more_ but he’s not getting it. He wants to twist away but he can barely move. Rahjim’s holding him still to be fucked into and the stimulation gets worse and worse. It’s so much. It’s too much. Shiro wants it to stop but he wants Rahjim to come even more. He’s writhing, he’s moaning again and he’s probably whimpering. He wants to touch himself but Rahjim nearly has him bent in half, pulled up so he’s resting on his shoulders and he needs his arms to support himself to keep from knocking his head around with each full-body impact of Rahjim’s thrusts. They’re so fast and jerky that it’s impossible for Shiro to even try and engage or thrust back.

He’s helpless. He has to take exactly what he’s being given. And it turns him on even more.

Shiro’s gritting his teeth, and he can’t tell if it’s in pain or pleasure. Rahjim keeps fucking him, and it feels like it’s never going to end. His back hurts, his legs hurt from being splayed so wide. He feels hot and cold, and like he can’t catch his breath. His moans are whimpering, they’re cries. He’s shouting, he’s cursing because he can’t take this anymore. He can’t handle this. He needs it to stop but it’s never going to end and, and— oh. He’s coming- he’s not, Shiro _knows_ he can’t be and yet his whole body is lit up and on fire because he’s absolutely having another orgasm. He’s not even hard. This orgasm is nearly as strong as the last, and it hurts. It’s so good that it hurts. Rahjim fucks him right through it. Shiro doesn’t get a second to bask in the afterglow, to even try to recover, because he’s being fucked mercilessly and he’s truly going to die like this.

And in the aftermath he’s too sensitive, he needs a break. He doesn’t get it. There are tears in his eyes— everything is so much. Rahjim’s hands are too tight, his cock is too thick, the drag on Shiro’s rim is bruising now. He needs it to stop, and it doesn’t.

Shiro begs Rahjim to keep going.

He complies.

And then, it changes. Rahjim’s slowing down, he’s grinding deep instead of snapping his hips. He’s close, he’s going to come. Shiro sobs in relief.

Rahjim’s cock goes from it’s thick-but-soft feel, so suddenly very rigid. Shiro feels fuller than he has the entire time he’s been fucked, and he has to grit his teeth to endure. There’s a burst of heat, deep inside him, and it’s so warm that it startles him. He kicks in surprise and nearly hits Rahjim in the face.

“It’s hot!” Shiro gasps.

“Is— is it okay?” Rahjim asks. He’s breathless. It’s the first time Shiro’s seen him completely flustered like this.

“I don’t know,” Shiro admits.

It’s such an unnatural sensation that Shiro really doesn’t know. It’s not pain, per se, but it’s not pleasant either.  Now that he’s not being driven headfirst into the chair, he runs his hand over his lower abdomen, where he can feel the heat of Rahjim’s come inside of him. Rahjim keeps thrusting shallowly into him, spilling more and more inside of Shiro. His cock is still rigid, and Shiro realizes he probably won’t be able to pull out until he’s finished. Another wave of hot come inside of him distracts him— he fidgets but he can’t get away from it.

They’re both breathing heavily, and don’t speak for a while. Rahjim draws everything out: his foreplay, his fucking and now, even his orgasm. Shiro’s at his mercy for all of them. And he’s enjoyed it.

Rahjim shifts, pulling his hips back, and they both can feel that his cock is getting soft again. He starts to pull out but Shiro stops him with a strangled cry. He’s still dealing with the weird sensation of _hot_ come all up inside of him, and he’s still so overstimulated that even the drag of the chair on his back feels too rough. For Rahjim to pull out of him right now might kill him.

“I’ve got you,” Rahjim insists, “just trust me.”

Shiro does. He nods weakly.

Rahjim pulls out.


	3. In Which Shiro has So Many Issues That We All Saw Coming, but Thankfully Rahjim is Here for Dick Therapy. Also, More Fun with Tentacles and More Emotions than Porn has Any Right to Have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The responses to this fic have been incredible! Thank you everyone for the support! What started as a fun short-story-to-get-Shiro-dicked, has turned into an absolute monster that I've been having a /blast/ writing!
> 
> Your eyes do not deceive you! It turns out there's going to be one more chapter!! Keep an eye out in about a weeks time for an update, or, hit me up on tumblr (name's the same) where I post regular updates and even small samples from what I'm working on!
> 
> ***A heads up!!! Shiro does goes triggered into a bit of a dissociative state in this chapter. I haven't warned for it because it's very light, noticed very quickly, and taken care of properly, but if y'all feel like it should be added to the tags I will change that asap. 
> 
> Now, even better **WE HAVE SOME ARTWORK Y'ALL!!!!**
> 
> Check out [These Beautiful Headshots of Rahjim](https://gitwrecked.tumblr.com/post/157361694370/rahjim-for-demenior) by Gitwrecked
> 
> [These Lovely Angles of Rahjim](https://realityisiron.tumblr.com/post/157559348754/if-you-havent-read-royally-screwed-by-demenior) by RealityisIron
> 
> And [ Rahjim's Early Attempts to Seduce Shiro (that failed)](https://realityisiron.tumblr.com/post/157685605869/so-this-isnt-the-scene-from-royally-screwed) by RealityisIron
> 
> Everyone give them some love and praise for bringing Prince "Dicks Out for Shiro" Rahjim to life, and!!!!! they've both hinted at possibly doing _more_ artwork and I for one can't wait to see what else they can do!
> 
> If anyone else out there trips and accidentally makes anything inspired by this story, tell me so I can share it with everyone! (And so that I can yell about how much I love it!)

When Shiro comes to he’s empty, and Rahjim is coaxing him to sit up. He’s curled, or rather, he’s sprawled, exactly where Rahjim left him in the second chair.

“Here, you need some of this,” Rahjim is saying. And even though Rahjim is capable of moving Shiro around himself, he lets Shiro sit up on his own. He has a water bottle— well, the alien equivalent— and Shiro takes it gratefully. It’s not water inside, but a smooth liquid that tastes reminiscent of the green goo they eat in the Castle. And it’s cold and soothing on Shiro’s raw throat.

Rahjim takes the container when Shiro is done, and he leans in to kiss Shiro gently. Shiro melts into the touch, except he can barely move because his ass is killing him. His back is killing him. He's sore everywhere, and his skin is sensitive. When he unpeels himself from the leather of the chair it stings. His whole body hurts. He aches and he’s not sure if it’s a good ache or not yet.

“I can’t begin to describe how incredible you are,” Rahjim says.

Shiro doesn’t have it in him to argue. He’s so tired, and he _hurts_. It’s a good hurt— he decides. He’s still weirdly warm inside— from Rahjim’s come— so he can’t have been asleep that long.

Rahjim grabs him under the arms and Shiro groans a protest. No, he hurts. He’s tired. Just leave him be. Rahjim gets an arm under his legs so he’s holding Shiro like a bride.

“I’m taking us to bed,” Rahjim says, “but would you like to shower first?”

Shiro does. He’s so slick he thinks he might start dripping, but he also knows he’s about to pass out again. Instead of replying, he tucks his head under Rahjim’s chin. Let someone else make decisions.

 

Shiro wakes up to water. He’s in a shower, with Rahjim standing between him and the spray, and Rahjim’s shaking him awake.

He doesn’t know how he got here. Where is here?

“You’re okay,” Rahjim says softly, “we’re cleaning up. You don’t have to stand, I’m just going to wash you off, okay?”

The night catches up to Shiro and he’s able to remember how he got here. Rahjim carried him. It’s only been a few minutes that he was asleep.

The water isn’t cold, but it certainly isn’t warm. And it’s a shock to Shiro’s hot, overstimulated skin, as is the rag Rahjim is using to wash him down. In the back of his mind Shiro’s sure that this is probably the luxury standard, as is befitting a Prince, but he still hisses as Rahjim drags the cloth over his skin to clear away all of the bodily fluids Shiro ended up covered in. He's propped against the wall of the shower, mostly staying upright because Rahjim is taking care to hold him up. Rahjim keeps stopping to kiss Shiro, or kiss the parts of him that he's washing down, and it’s dragging out the shower longer and longer. They’re going to run out of hot water at this rate.

Rahjim’s cock is sheathed again, and he wipes drying slick off his own thighs and stomach with little fuss. Shiro’s only a little grossed out when he swipes his fingers through Shiro’s come on his stomach and puts it in his mouth.

Shiro holds out his hand for the cloth so he can finish cleaning himself— he wants at least a little bit of dignity after totally passing out earlier— and mindlessly stares at his feet while he waits. It's funny that he feels a little shy now, after everything. The ship hadn't been very bright, and so the jarring white lights in the shower make him feel exposed like he hasn't been before. That's when he sees the blood. Swirling in the drain. It makes his throat close up and his heart stop. And suddenly Shiro’s somewhere cold, with a bucket and a dirty rag to try and bathe himself, naked and ashamed like an animal, and they’re coming with the hose because they need to get rid of the blood and it’s cold and—

“Shiro?” Rahjim is kneeling in front of him. He has two hands on Shiro’s arm, one on his face. Shiro blinks back into the moment. He's on the floor. He doesn't know how he got here.

“Are you okay?” Rahjim presses.

Shiro’s suddenly aware of how naked he is. Of how his body is on display, and all of the scars that he doesn’t remember getting, that he keeps forgetting are there: right there for Rahjim to see and to realize that Shiro probably got these scars from hurting other people.

“I saw blood,” Shiro says. His voice is cracking. He feels numb. He draws his arms around himself, trying to cover up.

Rahjim furrows his brow, and glances down at the floor, “Oh,” he realizes, “no, no, that was me. My come— the color. It’s different from yours, remember?”

No. Maybe. Shiro has a vague recollection of seeing Rahjim’s cock after he’d pulled out, covered with streaks of color that Shiro had thought was blood at the time as well.

“Yeah,” Shiro nods. And it’s a relief. It’s not blood. He’s not there— wherever there was. He feels wrung out, like he might start crying. He’s done more than enough of that tonight.

The shower is too bright. He needs to get away before Rahjim can see all of his scars.

“Shiro?” Rahjim says, “you're going away again. Stay with me.”

Shiro keeps his arms wrapped around himself. He doesn't want Rahjim to see him,

Rahjim runs his hands down Shiro's arms from his shoulders to his elbows. He doesn't try to make Shiro uncross his arms.

“What can I do?” Rahjim asks, “how can I bring you back?”

Shiro shivers under the touch. He doesn't know if he wants Rahjim touching him anymore. He wants to be alone so he can compose himself, get back some of his control and dignity.

“Tell me to stop if anything makes you uncomfortable,” Rahjim says. He moves slowly, gripping Shiro under the arms but not making Shiro stop covering himself. He stands up, pulling Shiro right off his feet. Another arm lifts Shiro's thighs so Shiro wraps his legs around Rahjim's waist. Shiro rests his head forwards on Rahjim’s shoulder and let's Rahjim hold him upright.

Rahjim turns them until Shiro's under the hot spray of water. The touch of the cloth is at his back, and so much for Shiro being able to clean himself off. The cloth washes away any remaining stickiness, and Rahjim's fingers massage his sore muscles. He reaches lower, washing around Shiro's sore ass and Shiro whimpers at the touch. His fingertips slip inside and Shiro hisses. Rahjim thankfully doesn't draw this out like he usually does, and he moves quickly through finishing washing Shiro.

“We’re going to get dry now,” Rahjim explains, “and then I think you need to rest for a little while.”

Shiro's feeling more awake after the shower, but also exhausted like he could sleep a full night through. Rahjim sets him down and kneels in front of him to dry him off. He starts at Shiro's feet and works his way up, with Shiro debating whether to fall asleep standing up or ask Rahjim to carry him to bed.

Rahjim towels off Shiro's legs, working his way up. He kisses the inside of Shiro's knees, the shaky muscles of his thighs. He doesn't shy away from cradling his balls or giving his cock a light kiss as he dries there, and Shiro feels more embarrassed than ever.

When Rahjim finishes drying his back- a kiss to each muscle, and possibly the larger scars but Shiro doesn't have their locations memorized- and tries to coax Shiro's arms out of the way so he can finish drying him, Shiro resists.

“What's wrong? Are you ashamed?” Rahjim asks.

Yes. No. Shiro doesn't know if he should be ashamed, or if he should be proud. He doesn't know what his body has done. He doesn't know where it's been. He barely recognizes it some days.

“It's bright,” Shiro says.

Rahjim glances up at the light, and then smiles down at him, “Modesty? Shiro I believe we are past modesty.”

Shiro shakes his head. It's beyond that. He can't explain it— but it's more important. He doesn't want to be seen.

Rahjim cradles Shiro's face in his hands, “Are you with me?” He asks.

Shiro hesitates before he shakes his head. _No_. He can't bring himself to look Rahjim in the eyes.

“What can I do?” Rahjim asks, “rest? Sex? May I keep touching you?”

It feels like a threat— the idea of not having Rahjim's warm hands on him. He wants to be alone so he can compose himself but he's terrified of Rahjim leaving him.

“I— it's too bright. You can see me,” Shiro chokes out.

“And you think I would be repulsed by your beautiful body,” Rahjim guesses, “you think I could be disgusted by you?”

It feels close enough to the truth. Shiro nods meekly.

“Shiro,” Rahjim sighs fondly, “I am not afraid of you. I am so attracted to you.”

Rahjim kisses Shiro's temple, and then presses their foreheads together.

“I told you: I wanted you from the moment we met. And that everything I've learned about you since has fueled my desire. I've seen your body and I would like to spend hours more drinking you in.”

Rahjim says everything like it’s a declaration.

“Your body is incredible. You have strength and stamina, you show all the marks of survival and I can't begin to imagine the strength of character it takes to live through what you've experienced. You should not be ashamed of these marks. Take pride in your strengths.”

Shiro can't breathe. He feels like he could sob.

“Should I keep going?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro nods. Rahjim kisses his cheekbones while he talks.

“Your magnificent body takes my cock so well,” Rahjim says and Shiro gasps. He wasn't expecting this, “you taste so good I could suck you off all night. You are so soft and warm inside that I can't wait to fuck you again. You stretch and bend so well, you make us both feel so good.”

Shiro can feel Rahjim’s hands on his crossed arms, coaxing him to relax.

“You trust me,” Rahjim whispers, “let me help.”

It feels like he’s moving through tar. Shiro wants to let go, he wants to pretend this never happened, but he can’t move. Everything feels heavy and sluggish, and locked in place. He lets Rahjim open his arms, exposing himself, and lets Rahjim wipe him down with the towel. Shiro feels so stupid. It’s not like he doesn’t have scars _everywhere_ , but for some reason he feels like if he can hide his front then no one will know how damaged he is.

“You’re doing very good Shiro,” Rahjim says softly, “would you like me to carry you to bed? Or would you like to walk?”

Shiro still feels off. He’s not present, he’s not in his body in the moment, but Rahjim’s hands are very warm and make a strong argument to get his mind out of wherever it’s run off to. He pulls Rahjim in for a kiss, and wraps his arms around his neck.

 

The crew bunks are small, made for one person per bed, and Rahjim doesn’t care. He manages to fit himself and Shiro, and takes blankets from the other beds to wrap themselves up with.

“You need some rest,” Rahjim says, and it sounds more like an order than suggestion, “we may have pushed your body too much.”

It’s a joke, but Shiro’s whole body flushes at the memories. He’s still aching and he… he’s hungry for more.

“I have nightmares,” Shiro admits as Rahjim settles in with him, “I should probably sleep alone.”

“If you want to be alone, I will understand,” Rahjim says, and he pulls Shiro closer. It’s so much warmer where their bodies touch, “but I would like to stay with you. And besides: if you wake up, I have a few methods of calming your mind.” He grabs a handful of Shiro’s ass to prove his point.

Yeah, that prostate massage left him pretty braindead. It’s not entirely a terrible idea.

Shiro doesn’t really want to sleep alone anyways.

“If it is okay with you,” Rahjim says, “I will wake you in a little bit? I would like you fuck you more before you leave.”

The casual way he says it makes it hotter than it has any right to be.

Shiro’s feeding off of the warmth of Rahjim’s body, and it’s helping him move a bit faster. He thinks the worst of his episode is over.

“Yeah,” he says, “that's good. There’s more I wanna do with you too.”

“Then get some rest,” Rahjim instructs, “you’re going to need it.”

It’s strange falling asleep next to someone else— especially this close to someone else. Shiro can’t remember the last time he fell asleep next to someone like this. There’s something so secure and safe in feeling body heat, in the smell and the feeling of another person under his hands.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro wakes up to kisses on his face.

“Shiro you have to wake up now,” Rahjim says sweetly.

He feels like he’s dragging himself out of fatigue. It can’t possibly have been long enough to get any rest. Shiro groans, and tries to push Rahjim away.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles. He’s so tired he could sleep for a year. There’s very little that’s worth waking up for right now.

Rahjim easily catches his hands, twining their fingers together, and kisses down Shiro’s neck. They’re wet, warm and open-mouthed. Shiro’s body is starting to wake up, compared to the tired fog in his head.

“If you wake up now I’ll give you a reward,” Rahjim says.

That could be one of the things worth getting up for.

His eyelids are heavy and hard to keep open, and he blinks stupidly as everything comes into focus.

Rahjim’s smiling down at him, his mane is loosely tied back and looks like it’s dried wild.

Shiro smiles back at him, and wiggles his toes to feel where they are. He’s so warm, everything feels so nice and soft right now.

Rahjim leans back down so they’re face to face, “Are you with me?” he checks.

Shiro feels realigned with himself, and despite being tired, his mind is clear again.

“Yeah,” he nods.

Rahjim kisses him, almost too deeply for just waking up.

“I knew you’d want a treat,” Rahjim teases.

Shiro licks his lips, and decides he’s ready to joke around too, “What if I don’t want to get up? I’m warm and cozy. I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“That would be a problem,” Rahjim agrees, “I suppose I’d have to treat myself for getting up, then.”

Rahjim is nearly laying on top of Shiro and Shiro’s realizing how much he likes this weight. He does an experimental wiggle, to test his movement. Rahjim moves back, but it’s more of a grind. If Shiro can’t remember the last time he fell asleep next to someone, then he has no idea when’s the last time he woke up naked with someone.

“What’s your reward?” Shiro asks, feigning innocence.

“My reward will be to have you awake,” Rahjim replies, and under the blankets Shiro can feel Rahjim’s hands tracing along his body, “because I have many more plans and positions to try with you.”

Shiro pulls his arms up over his head, miming a sleep position, while also bringing a leg up to hook over Rahjim’s thigh, “Well, I’m pretty tired. It might take a lot to wake me up.”

“I never realized you could be so cheeky,” Rahjim says, and presses a kiss to Shiro’s pulse point at the corner of his jaw. There’s no way he can miss the full shudder that goes through Shiro’s body.

“But I’m willing to work for what I want,” Rahjim says.

Shiro yawns loudly, and turns his head away, “Wake me when you're done,” he says. It's a challenge.

“Be careful what you ask for,” Rahjim says. Shiro shivers at the threat. He _really_ likes to be threatened with a good time. He'll have to remember this.

Rahjim kisses his cheek, and then crawls down his body, under the blankets. He's gentle, leaving soft kisses that almost tickle, and fanning his hands out like he just wants to touch every inch of Shiro.

Then he gets to Shiro's nipple and pinches. Shiro almost breaks character, but he forces himself to stay still. He's still a little raw and sore from earlier— everything is a little raw and sore— so it's much more tender. And after a moment's pause, Rahjim’s soft tongue sweeps over, soothing where his fingers are rough.

Rahjim doesn't spend very long, especially when he realizes he's not going to get the response he wants, and soon he's kissing down Shiro's stomach. It's wet and warm, taking time to run his tongue on Shiro's skin like he's savoring the taste, and Shiro's toes curl and he has to screw his eyes shut tight.

He feels Rahjim's broad palms push his thighs slightly further apart, and his hot breath on his limp dick. Shiro's already come so many times tonight he's really not even sure if he can get fully hard again, but he's more than happy to let Rahjim try.

Rahjim places a soft kiss to the base of Shiro's cock, right at the hair there, and Shiro can't help but smile where he knows Rahjim can't see him. Rahjim keeps treating him so nicely. He really likes it.

Shiro feels Rahjim's fingers on his cock, lifting him up for a better angle and running fingertips along the soft skin. He knows Rahjim gets a little distracted because the touches are curious rather than outright sexual, but Shiro likes the image in his head of what he thinks Rahjim’s expression looks like, and guesses all the nice things he's probably thinking.

And then Shiro feels the warm, wet invite of Rahjim’s lips on him. Rahjim tongues at the tip of his dick, let's Shiro's cock rest in his mouth when he starts to suck. He bobs his head as he does so, going from having most of Shiro in his mouth to just the tip. Shiro bites his lip and clenches his fists to keep from moving. He can feel blood rushing to his groin, as Rahjim sucks him hard.

The slow slide of Rahjim’s second tongue makes Shiro gasp. He thinks he hid it, but he wouldn't be surprised if Rahjim heard him. Rahjim swallows his cock down, almost right to the base, and Shiro breathes in through clenched teeth. He locks his legs to keep them from moving. Rahjim's hands on his thighs squeeze lightly in response. He can feel those reactions.

He runs his second tongue up and down Shiro's length. Each swipe makes the buzzing sensation more intense. He draws off slowly, until he has the head loosely in his lips, and then he sucks while lavishing Shiro's cock with his second tongue.

Shiro moans, and cuts himself off quickly. His body jerks. He can't hide that. Rahjim moans around his dick and Shiro's sure it's some form of victory. He's so competitive that he wants to be a little upset he couldn't maintain his facade, but he's proud of himself for lasting this long.

Rahjim pulls off of him slowly. Shiro struggles to even out his breathing, like he's unaffected even though he can't unclench his fists.

“Are you awake yet?” Rahjim asks. It's muffled because he's under the blankets.

Shiro bites his lip. Obviously he's awake. He could say something cheesy about how this is a great way to wake up. Or he could be a shit.

“No,” Shiro says, tauntingly, “still sleeping.”

Rahjim is silent. Shiro cracks an eye open to look down at the shape of Rahjim sitting up under the blankets. He can only imagine the look on his face— probably shocked to be getting sassed after giving some fantastic head.

Really, he should know better. Shiro's proven time and again that he's going to do the un-sexy or stupid thing in bed.

It's really not funny, but the longer Rahjim is quiet, the more Shiro wants to laugh.

“Still sleeping?” Rahjim declares, “Shiro!” And he pushes the blankets aside as he lunges up, pinning Shiro between a set of arms. Shiro yelps at the sudden cold, and tries to grab for a blanket to cover himself back up.

“How am I going to have sex with you if you're sleeping?” Rahjim shouts. He's laughing. Shiro's laughing. This is so easy, this repertoire between them. Rahjim's hands are running up his sides as he leans down to rub noses with Shiro.

His fingers skim a ticklish point on Shiro's ribs that makes Shiro jump like he's been struck. Rahjim jerks back in shock, and they both look down to Rahjim’s hand on Shiro's side, and then slowly back to one another. Shiro realizes how badly he's pinned. He has nowhere to escape to.

“You wouldn't,” Shiro warns him.

Rahjim grins widely.

 

* * *

 

 

They're breathless and smiling though kisses. Shiro's incredibly ticklish in the right places, and Rahjim isn't at all. Which is entirely unfair so Shiro ends up playing dirty and using Rahjim’s strip of sensitive skin down his front to his advantage.

They've collapsed on their backs, mostly on top of each other, and have their heads turned to look at one another.

“What time is it?” Shiro asks.

Rahjim glances away thoughtfully. He has one hand idly stroking Shiro's dick, and keeps up his loose strokes as he thinks.

“Nearly midnight,” he finally confirms. Shiro's not sure how he figured it out, but an alien with an internal clock is one of the easiest things to believe in his life.

“Midnight?” Shiro echoes in disbelief, “only?” He thought it had to be much later— or, rather, earlier— in the morning.

“I pulled you from the gala quite early,” Rahjim says, “I wanted to maximize our time together.”

“Only midnight,” Shiro mutters, “well, then we have a lot more time than I thought.”

“Where do you want to start?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro looks him over, as if he's appraising what he sees, and licks his lips, “Well, since we have the time… I wanna try blowing you.”

He's wanted to since realizing that Rahjim even has a cock. Shiro's always loved giving oral— his favorite thing is knowing that his partner is feeling good and Shiro knows that he gives phenomenal head. He needs to get his mouth on Rahjim's cock while they're both still clean from the shower.

“My cock isn't especially suitable for that,” Rahjim explains, “plus it might… it may be too big for you.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, “I know— but you have a _tentacle_! I'll regret it if I don't try. Besides, I've already eaten you out. Now I gotta try the other way.”

“Is there some human fascination with tentacles that I don't know about?” Rahjim asks. He sounds like he's settling in for another culture chat.

“Are you gonna keep stalling or do you want me to choke on your dick?” Shiro asks.

Shiro watches Rahjim’s entire body shudder. Ha! He did it! He figured out the dirty talk that gets to Rahjim!

Rahjim sits up, and smiling triumphantly, Shiro follows suit.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” Shiro instructs. He slides off the bed to kneel between Rahjim's legs, using a blanket to keep his knees cushioned and off the cold floor.

There's just one problem.

“How do… can you just get it out?” Shiro asks. He really doesn't know the logistics of having an internal dick.

“I just need some stimulation,” Rahjim explains. He traces two fingers along the edge of his slit, and flicks his thumb at the hood. Again, all very similar to a human vagina.

“Warn me this time,” Shiro instructs him, and then leans in to lick between Rahjim's fingers.

He's not as wet as he was the first time Shiro did this. His skin is smooth all around his groin, no trace of fur, and the scent of pheromones aren't as strong right now. But they're there. Shiro puts his mouth right to the slit, with Rahjim’s fingers stroking along the sides of it, and gets his tongue inside just like Rahjim liked earlier.

He gets a rewarding hiss of pleasure, and keeps going. Rahjim eventually pulls his hand away to get out of Shiro's way, and Shiro happily spreads his thighs further apart to give himself more room.

“Okay Shiro, okay,” Rahjim pants after a little while.

Shiro leans back, licking the first wave of slick off of his lips.

Rahjim reaches down again with one hand and, using his fingers, spreads his slit open. The tip of his cock peeks out, and slowly begins to slide out. From the way Rahjim shudders at the slow movement, this must feel very good. Shiro's aware he's doing it slow like this for show, but he doesn't mind because it's a very good show. His mouth is watering.

Shiro has half a mind to say something stupid like ‘hello there’ and only just manages to restrain himself.

It's only been a few hours since he last saw it and already he feels like he forgot how big Rahjim’s cock is. Unless Shiro really wants to try and deepthroat him— which is a skill he once had, though he's really not sure if he still can— there's no way it's all going to fit in his mouth.

Shiro takes a moment to appreciate that he had all of this—this huge alien tentacle dick— inside of him and he’s still walking. Which is actually surprising. It must be because of how slick it is, and with all the care Rahjim took in helping Shiro stretch enough to take it. Normally something like this would be something Shiro would dream of but never touch, and here he is. Literally having his cake and, _ha_ , eating it too.

“Are you okay?” Rahjim checks in. Shiro realizes he’s been staring with an open mouth. He’s surprised he isn’t drooling.

“Yeah,” Shiro assures him, “it’s just… it’s so big.”

Rahjim doesn’t say anything but Shiro gets the sense that he might be preening under the praise.

Shiro runs his hand up Rahjim’s length to reacquaint himself. It’s firm, but soft enough to wrap around his wrist or move unlike any human dick he’s ever seen. Shiro wonders if Rahjim can actually control how to move it, or if it’s all involuntary. The ridges feel nice against his palm, and the small bumps that produce the slick are going to provide some interesting sensations.

He has one hand at the base, and places his other hand higher up to help guide the tip into his mouth. Shiro glances up to make sure Rahim is watching as he leans in, opening his mouth and—

_plap_

Shiro gets slimy dick across his cheek.

Well, so much for being sexy.

He huffs out his embarrassment and quickly tries again, hoping that maybe Rahjim will mistake that for an attempted nuzzle and—

Rahjim’s cock twists to the side and lightly smacks Shiro’s other cheek with a wet _plap_.

Shiro glares up at Rahjim, who looks like he’s about to burst from trying to keep himself from laughing. As soon as he sees Shiro realize what he’s doing, Rahjim doubles over and he’s laughing so hard he might as well be cackling.

“Are you for real?” Shiro shouts at him. Rahjim falls backwards onto the bed, howling.

“I couldn’t resist!” he finally chokes out, “you were so serious.”

Shiro feels a little embarrassed now. He just wanted to return the favor and make Rahjim into an incoherent mess too. Instead, he’s getting teased for it, “Do you want me to do this or not?” he snaps. It’s a little harsher than he means to sound.

Rahjim pushes himself back up, “How come you’re the only one allowed to be cheeky?”

“Because I’m cute,” Shiro shoots back on reflex, before he realizes what he said. He goes still as the words sink in. Normally they’re just banter, a sassy reflex to a snarky question, but with Rahjim suddenly it means a lot more.

When he glances up Rahjim is grinning from ear to ear.

“That we can agree on,” he says, and he’s _still_ chuckling about his prank, “I promise to be good now. Please, continue.”

Shiro’s ears are burning too much to think of a snarly response, and he feels bad about snapping earlier. Instead of voicing any of that, he leans in and slides his tongue up the length of Rahjim’s cock. There’s slick on his tongue, as nearly-tasteless as before, and he swallows it before he continues.

The tip is thin enough that it’s more like sucking on a finger— albeit a thick finger— and Shiro takes note of how good it felt when Rahjim just sucked on the head of his cock. He’s not sure if there’s any other openings on Rahjim’s cock than the bumps that secrete the slick. He’s not even sure where Rahjim’s come comes out. Shiro takes in enough of Rahjim’s cock that he can get his tongue around some of the first ridges and bumps, and uses his tongue to stimulate them. Immediately there’s an increase of slick, and he tries to swallow but there’s already some running down his face. Oh well, he knew this was going to be messy.

Rahjim has gone quiet, and Shiro glances up at him just long enough to see he’s completely enamored with what Shiro’s doing. A good sign then.

Shiro takes in more, it’s not enough to be stretching out his jaw yet, and he plays with his tongue on everything he feels. He draws back, sliding Rahjim’s cock almost all the way out, and takes a moment to breathe, and then takes in even more than before. He stays here, bobbing his head, and working his hands on the parts he can’t reach. This is about as comfortable as he is with a dick in his mouth before he runs the risk of choking on it.

Though, he did mention something about choking on Rahjim earlier. And Rahjim had definitely liked it. Maybe it’s worth seeing if Shiro can still deepthroat. With how slender and slick Rahjim’s cock is, it’s probably the best thing Shiro's going to find to start practicing on again. Again, he laughs at himself. As far as he knows he doesn't plan on doing a lot of deepthroating in the near future.

Rahjim’s fingers card through his hair, and get a firm grip. Shiro likes the tug, but at the same time it feels so possessive it makes his heart skip a beat. And not necessarily in a good way. It makes him freeze up.

“Is this okay?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro pulls off of Rahjim’s cock and looks up at him.

He used to love having his hair pulled, but now it feels almost like a leash. Like he’s being forced into something.

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “but don’t— don’t push me. Just be loose, or else I don’t like it.”

Rahjim nods. He’s looking at Shiro like Shiro’s something precious and incredible again. Shiro just has slime all over his face and running down his chest, he’s not that good of a sight right now.

With that done Shiro decides to try deepthroating. He’s still a little nervous about Rahjim’s hand on his head— the idea of being held down is a lot scarier than he thought it might be— but as he takes Rahjim’s cock in his mouth again he feels Rahjim’s fingers twitch in his hair and he likes that sign that he’s doing a good job.

“Shiro you’re amazing,” Rahjim says. Shiro hasn’t shown him amazing yet.

Shiro uses his hands to hold Rahjim’s cock steady, and he breathes in through his nose as he starts to work further down Rahjim’s length. It’s unlikely he’ll get all the way— but he’s going to try his best to get as far as he can.

Rahjim lets out a strangled moan as Shiro feels the tip of Rahjim’s cock hit the back of his throat, and he feels incredibly pleased with himself and dares to see if he can go any further. He gets a lot further than he expects.

It’s a weird sensation to have the dick in your mouth start wiggling as it slides down your throat. Shiro wants to be freaked out, but if he stops then Rahjim is going to try to take care of him and the whole point here is to let Shiro take care of Rahjim. He takes in more and then swallows around Rahjim’s cock. Rahjim’s fingers tighten and he hears Rahjim yelp in surprise. If Shiro’s mouth wasn’t being stretched open, he’d probably be smiling.

Shiro takes him down as long as he can, until he has to pull back to breathe. Rahjim moans the whole time. His fingers are tight in Shiro's hair, but he doesn't hold Shiro down at all. Shiro grins up at him, and then goes down for round two. Maybe he can get further.

Of course since the first attempt went so well, Shiro goes faster and accidentally makes himself gag— which, with a mouthful of dick and gargling slick is probably the worst, most un-sexy sound he's ever heard.

Rahjim's hand goes loose in his hair.

“Shiro are you okay?” Rahjim asks immediately.

Shiro starts sliding Rahjim's cock out of his mouth. He's already trying to think of how to downplay how embarrassing that was.

Rahjim will ask him to stop, Shiro's almost certain. He's confident that his dick isn't meant for this— and it isn't, really, that's true. There's so much slick in Shiro's mouth he's drooling with it.

But Shiro really wanted to do this— to make Rahjim come without him having to do anything in return.

He's going to do this, he decides. Even if it's a little unsexy, he's going to choke on Rahjim's cock until he comes down his throat. Before Shiro lets the tip of Rahjim’s cock out of his mouth, he swallows him back down. He chokes again, but persists, spurred on by Rahjim's startled cry that breaks into a loud moan. He gets further still, and pulls back for Rahjim to feel the whole slide, he lets the excess slick fall out of his mouth, and then he's swallowing Rahjim down again. Shiro works his hand at the base of Rahjim’s cock, pumping him, and keeps his right hand free since everything is so slick now.

Rahjim's thighs are trembling around his ears, and his fingers are tight enough in Shiro's hair that the pull is edging on painful. Shiro keeps sucking, keeps swallowing. He's making Rahjim feel so good.

Rahjim’s moaning his name over and over and it becomes white noise amongst the sounds of Shiro blowing him. It all fades away to one purpose: making him come.

It takes a long time, Shiro can remember. He twists his wrist, tries different grips and touching different parts of Rahjim’s cock. He gets better at swallowing him down, even when he's breathing hard like he's been running for hours.  

Rahjim’s grip in his hair _yanks_ Shiro off of Rahjim’s dick and for a moment Shiro sees red. If he wasn't so shocked he feels like he'd twist to bite Rahjim's wrist. He _asked_ not to be pulled!

“Shiro!” Rahjim nearly shouts, and he sounds worried. He releases his grip on Shiro’s hair and drops his hand to his side.

The fight drains from Shiro.

He has to cough up some slick before he can speak, wipe away the strands sticking to his lips from Rahjim’s cock, and his whole face feels sore for his efforts, “Yeah?”

“Are you— are you okay?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro feels guilty, but he's not sure why, “Yeah?” He croaks. Well, he thought Rahjim’s soft cock wouldn't hurt his throat, but Shiro’s enthusiasm must have done more damage than he thought, “why wouldn't I be?”

Rahjim is quiet, and Shiro is sure he's trying to determine the right way to phrase his next words. Maybe Shiro's been so colossally terrible at giving head that Rahjim’s officially done with him.

“You were… driven,” Rahjim says carefully, “and I was afraid you were hurting yourself.”

Shiro rubs his throat. He is sore, but that's a necessary pain.

“I'm fine,” he says. His hoarse voice really isn't helping his cause.

Rahjim shakes his head, “I don't think I want you to do this anymore.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, letting his shoulders drop, “sorry.” That's… he really was that bad.

Had Rahjim been asking him to stop and Shiro had been ignoring him? Shiro had tuned everything out— compared to Rahjim, who hung on his every word, Shiro was a grade A douchebag.

“You are disappointed?” Rahjim realizes, “you didn't look like you were enjoying yourself. I didn't like that. I thought you’d slipped away again, it was frightening.”

“I wanted to make you come,” Shiro admits, and he’s still kneeling between Rahjim’s legs covered in slick, with Rahjim’s cock curled inches from his face and yet he feels like he’s being scolded. It’s a very odd sensation, “you’ve been so good to me, I wanted to return the favor. I, uh, I’m sorry I scared you.”

“But you did make me feel good! That all felt so wonderful. Had I have come then it would have ended,” Rahjim says.

Shiro nods, “Well, can I do something else to help you finish then?”

“Why do you want me to come so badly?” Rahjim asks, “we can’t conceive, so what’s the point?”

“That you’re enjoying yourself,” Shiro says.

“But I am,” Rahjim replies, “very much.”

“But you’ve only— once! Don’t you want more?” Shiro asks.

Rahjim furrows his brow, “Hold on,” and he studies Shiro curiously, “do you come without consent— I mean, as in, with no control? It’s involuntary?”

Shiro stares at him as if he’s grown a second head, “Yes, well, mostly? It’s… that’s what sex is, isn’t it? You have fun until you both come?”

“Human sex ends when you come?” Rahjim repeats. He sounds a little in shock.

“When does your sex end?” Shiro asks. He’s a little afraid to know the answer.

“It… whenever we’re done,” Rahjim says like it’s obvious, “if it were about ejaculation then we’d do that and move on— sex is all about pleasure and bonding!”

“Wait a minute,” Shiro says, thinking hard, “are you telling me you can come whenever you feel like it?”

“Yes,” Rahjim says.

“So you fucked me for— for _that_ long and you could have come any time?” Shiro asks. While Rahjim fucking him for however impossibly long it had been, earlier, was probably the best screw of his life— Shiro has been dreading the next one. The first one almost killed him, and more of that? If there was a way to die it'd be the best way to go, but it might not be as pleasant the second time.

“Well, yes,” Rahjim explains, “I could have, but we were both clearly enjoying ourselves— and when I thought it would be a good time to stop, you didn't want me to and I couldn’t help myself. I waited until you were done before I finished.”

Shiro wants to argue— but he was the one screaming ‘don't stop’. It was because he wanted Rahjim to come, but then again maybe it was also for his own benefit.

“Can we agree to not do it that long, at least, not that intense for that long again?” Shiro asks, “I think another round like that will kill me.”

At Rahjim’s alarmed look Shiro has to explain himself, “It's a figure of speech— not literal.”

Rahjim sighs in relief, “Okay, yes, I can agree to that. I will make love to you gently for the rest of the night.”

Shiro feels a spike of adrenaline— fear? Or excitement? At the word ‘love’, but he doesn't want to think about that and instead smiles in what he hopes passes for coy or sultry, “Well, hopefully not _too_ gently.”

Rahjim laughs, and they're back to everything feeling easy again.

“Come up here,” Rahjim says, “I want to kiss you more— and use my fingers in you.”

A shiver runs down Shiro's spine. Rahjim says things so casually that really shouldn't be so flippant.

He wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. His face is soaked with slick, and it's dropped down his chest right to his groin. He's covered in it— it's on his hands, his thighs, it's even in his nose. He didn’t realize how messy he’d gotten at the end there. Shiro glances around for a towel or anything to wipe himself off. He's kind of gross to go climbing back into bed.

Well, the blanket he's sitting on is already slimed, so Shiro uses the corner of it to try and wipe off the worst of it before he leaves it on the floor and straddles Rahjim again. He stays up on his knees so Rahjim has to tilt his head up to kiss, and Shiro holds the sharp lines of his jaw in his hands. Rahjim wraps two arms around Shiro's waist, and the other two hands get a good grip on his ass.

Shiro snorts into the kiss, “A little eager?” He asks.

Rahjim grins without a hint of shame, “I told you— I will gladly use my hands all night. It seems to be your favorite so far.”

Shiro can feel Rahjim's cock trailing up his inner thigh and pressing light pressure at the point just behind his balls. He grinds down against it, but there's not enough to grind against.

“I wouldn't say it's my absolute favorite of the night,” Shiro says, “but it ranks up there.”

“I like this cheeky side of you,” Rahjim says, and he's leaning, moving— back. He's moving them so they're laying down, Shiro on top, and he's cupping a hand behind Shiro's head to pull him down to kiss again. There's a joke there somewhere, with how Rahjim is keeping his grip on Shiro's ass, but they keep kissing and Shiro forgets what he was going to say.

Rahjim's cock rests against the cleft of his ass, and it's slick and kind of gross still, but Shiro's getting more and more used to the sensation. He trails his fingers down the sensitive strip of Rahjim’s skin, and experimentally pinches soft enough to make Rahjim gasp into his mouth.

“So you said sex is all about feeling good? For you,” Shiro clarifies.

“Yes,” Rahjim says, “while a part of it can be procreation, it's mostly for entertainment. Is it not the same for humans?”

“A mix,” Shiro says, “I think popular majority is that it's for fun— but there are those who believe it's strictly for, well, babies.”

“Interesting,” Rahjim says, and then adds, “I hope you're part of the former.”

Shiro rolls his eyes.

Rahjim's still chuckling at his joke when he pulls Shiro down for some more kissing. The wet slide of their tongues is distracting enough that Shiro almost forgets his next question. Almost. But the kissing is so good that he waits a little while before asking. Rahjim is softly grinding up against him, just small rolls of his hips that slide his cock along Shiro's ass to start lubing him up. He pulls Shiro's hips down so Shiro's dick drags along his skin, just enough to be tantalizing.

Shiro pulls away again, “If your sex is about pleasure— then I want tonight to be good for you too. How can I do that?”

“You agreed to be here,” Rahjim says, “I can't imagine anything better.”

Shiro sighs, “You’d say that about anyone who said yes. You know what I mean.”

It isn't until he's don't talking that he realizes he’s shoved his foot in his mouth again.

He quickly amends, “I'm sorry that came out wrong.”

“You still don't think you're special?” Rahjim asks.

“Well— you have a lot of sex, right?” Shiro tries to clarify carefully, “like, no judgement at all— I’m happy to be here— but you talk like this to all of them, don't you? That's how you are.”

Rahjim's frowning up at him and Shiro regrets ever opening his mouth.

“You still don't believe me,” he finally says, “when I compliment you. You don't take that to heart?”

Shiro's very aware that they're probably moments from having sex— Rahjim’s still grinding up against him like it's a second thought— but now they're about to argue again. He really has terrible timing.

He does feel comfortable in being honest, “Um, no,” Shiro admits, “it's just… it's just sex talk, right?

“Just sex talk,” Rahjim repeats. And the tone of his voice implies that Shiro’s said something very wrong.

Shiro shakes his head, “Look, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Rahjim rolls them over. Shiro doesn’t put up a fight anymore, just goes boneless and let’s Rahjim manhandle him so that he’s on his back and the alien prince is leaning overtop of him.

“It’s not _just_ talk,” Rahjim says. He sounds far too serious for the moment— too serious to be spreading Shiro’s thighs with his hands, “everything I say I say with intent. I stand behind anything I have said to you tonight.”

Shiro really doesn’t want to fight because one of Rahjim’s hands has his leg bent up at the knee, so that another one of his fingers can start circling Shiro’s hole. It’s making the conversation really hard to follow.

“And we— I told you. You don’t know me. You’re assuming or just— just judging off of my appearance,” Shiro says, “I’m not insulted— I just want a real answer. What can I do to make tonight good for you?”

Rahjim huffs and sits back like he needs a moment to compose himself. He doesn’t release Shiro from the position he’s put him in— leg bent and ass exposed and it should be more humiliating, but Rahjim is taking this seriously so Shiro’s going to try to as well.

“You—” Rahjim gestures with a free hand, and Shiro’s never seen him at a loss for words like this, “why can’t you believe that I want good things for you? That when I say nice things I _mean_ them. We talked about this— you even told me that there’s no one you trust to tell you nice things,” Shiro winces because, yeah, he slipped up when he admitted that. It sounds really sad when Rahjim says it like that, “you said you trusted me to be gentle, you trusted me with your wellbeing. Doesn’t that extend to trusting that I’m telling you the truth?”

It should. Shiro can see the overlapping circles in his head, but in reality they feel so separate.

“Do you trust me?” Rahjim asks. And it’s very different this time. It’s not physical, it’s not about his body, about being handled gently and with care. It’s about… Rahjim is asking him to open up. To expose himself.

Shiro takes in a shuddering breath. He doesn’t… he doesn’t know. Rahjim has been nothing but patient and gentle and understanding. He’s checked for consent even on things Shiro wouldn’t even think about checking for. He doesn’t force, he nudges and finds out what Shiro wants and gives that to him. He handled Shiro freaking out and having that episode earlier without any frustration or annoyance. If there’s anyone Shiro should trust…

“ _Can_ you trust me?” Rahjim asks, and it’s much more gentle. It’s almost sad.

“I don’t know,” Shiro admits, just as quietly, “I…” this is getting too much, too fast. He’s not going to cry when they’re about to have sex, again, “I wasn’t expecting this when I said yes.” He hopes Rahjim understands what he means— Shiro expected a quick fuck and to get back to the gala before anyone knew they were missing. He wasn’t anticipating good conversation, marathon sex or laying his soul bare.

Rahjim doesn’t look angry, and Shiro has to glance away because holding eye contact is too much right now. Why can’t he ever just do anything the easy way? Of course his first hook-up after a year in captivity would be about psychoanalyzing him.

“Shiro,” Rahjim sighs, like it’s a plea. He leans down and cups Shiro's jaw in his hand, turning Shiro’s head so that they can kiss again. Rahjim must have the patience of a saint, or he’s too embarrassed to leave. Shiro can’t imagine why Rahjim is putting up with his mood swings. Why can’t Shiro just tell a white lie and say yes? The Universe is vast, and there’s a war to be fought. It’s not like he’ll ever see Rahjim again.

“I’m so sorry you’ve been hurt like this,” Rahjim says, and there’s a kiss to Shiro’s nose, and now they’re face to face again, “but you have my word that everything I say to you is the truth as I see it. I have not lied to you, and I have no intention of ever lying to you. I would like you to trust me, but I won’t ever demand more of you than you are willing to give.”

This is insane. Shiro wants to get away. This is a one night stand, why does there have to be so many emotions? He doesn’t move.

Rahjim leans down so their foreheads are touching, and his long hair falls forwards around their faces, “So, in all honestly: if you want to make me happy you will stop being so reserved. Trust me to still like you when you are yourself. Seeing you happy is what makes me happy— we are very similar in those regards. But where I see it as fun, you see it as a duty. As a series of checks and balances and you fear not giving your share. Shiro, all the work you need to do tonight is to tell me how you feel. That is all I want from you.”

Shiro’s shaking. He’s going to cry. Why the fuck is he going to cry? Just because Rahjim won’t stop insisting that he sees all these good things in Shiro. Because he won’t stop being nice, and understanding and gentle. Because he’s so _good_ and yet he wants Shiro.

And Shiro doesn’t deserve that.

That’s really the bottom line of it.

Shiro deserves the dark alley quickie that’s rough and on the side of painful. With shitty lighting so no one has to look at his patchwork scar body or deal with his messed up headspace.

He feels Rahjim’s slick finger press against his entrance.

“Is this okay?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro squeezes his eyes shut to keep from crying, and nods.

The push of Rahjim’s finger inside of him makes him gasp, and it’s more like a sob. He throws his head back— it feels good, and the anticipation of what’s to come feels so good. Rahjim kisses the exposed line of his throat.

“That’s it,” Rahjim says soothingly, “I want you to feel good.”

He’s pulling his finger out, and pushing it back in again. It’s slow, and it’s good. It’s not enough to fill him and Shiro wants to rock against it. How can someone take all the shit Shiro heaps onto them— constantly arguing with them or saying stupid shit or bringing his baggage into the bedroom— and still want to treat him like this? Like he’s worth taking care of?

“I— I,” Shiro’s gasping for air, because he feels paralyzed with emotion, “I want to trust you,” he blurts out, “I want to believe you. But I don’t know how.”

Rahjim adds a second finger, making Shiro’s back arch.

“It’s easy,” he says, “but it’s also hard. I think you’re more than capable.”

Shiro has to ride out a few thrusts— Rahjim’s fingers are thicker than his own. This is stretching him out faster than he did with his own hand. It feels so good that it’s hard to feel afraid of the unknown.

“I— oh— I’ll try,” Shiro says.

His eyes are still closed, but he feels Rahjim lean over him and is ready to accept the kiss he’s offered. It’s soft and sweet, compared to the constant drag of Rahjim’s fingers in and out of his body.

Rahjim finds Shiro’s prostate, and even though Shiro knew that was what he was looking for, it’s still enough to make him arch nearly off the bed.

“You’re decadent like this,” Rahjim says, and he strokes Shiro again, softly.

Shiro cracks his eyes open. He wants to argue.

“Yeah?” he says instead.

Rahjim grins, recognizing the attempt Shiro’s making, “If we had more time, I would keep you here, in this state, for days. Until everything else fell away and all you felt was pleasure.”

Shiro’s pretty sure he’d die, but his cock is pretty invested in the idea and gives a very interested twitch.

“I think I’d—ah— like that,” Shiro says.

 

Rahjim gets his wish— or as close as he can get it. He keeps Shiro nearly bent in half as they make out, sloppy and hot, as he works his way up to three fingers, then four. Shiro’s squirming and can’t focus on anything but the slick drag of Rahjim’s hand, or Rahjim’s hot mouth. And then Rahjim’s cock is coiling around his again, and a free hand comes down to play with the head of Shiro’s cock— right where he’s most sensitive.

“Don’t hold back,” Rahjim reminds him, “let me hear how much you like this.”

Shiro’s been holding back— been clenching his teeth and swallowing his moans because he feels embarrassed to be taken apart so easily. But Rahjim asked for this. He wants to hear Shiro.

Shiro’s never been very loud in the bedroom, but he’s never been fucked this good. He promised to try to change.

It’s weird, almost unnatural, to let the grunts slip out, as Rahjim forces his thick fingers in. To let go the moans that make him feel more self-conscious than he’s felt all night. They’re not forced, and they’re not loud, to start. But Rahjim keeps coaxing new sounds out of him, keeps kissing him and all over him as Shiro tries to take deep breaths, rocks his body with the thrusts of Rahjim’s hand, and arches into the tight, warm heat of Rahjim’s cock.

“I— I feel—” Shiro’s trying, he really is. He wants to think of something, to try and match what Rahjim says. His jaw goes slack at a strong press on his prostate, and he moans loud enough that it’s almost a shout.

“I feel—I’m—” Shiro tries again, but he can’t think.

Rahjim presses a kiss to his cheek, and then whispers into the space between them, “Glorious.”

Shiro latches onto the word. It’s not how he would ever describe himself— it’s all Rahjim. He wants to believe Rahjim, he wills his mind to obey. And for a brief moment he sees it. He sees himself spread out, lost to the caresses and kisses, open-mouthed and smiling— he’s happy.

Rahjim kisses him as he comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2017 Goals: #WreckShiro and Get u a man (alien? partner?) who treats you like Rahjim treats Shiro


	4. In Which Shiro Gets Everything He Wants, and What He Wants Is to Get Wrecked Like the Kinky Little Shit He Is. Also, Rahjim is Too Good and There Are So Many Emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE!!! THE END!!!
> 
> What started as a short 'maybe I can write voltron porn?' pwp, intended to be maybe 8k tops, spawned into this 40k+ monstrosity of making Shiro Feel Good. I've been absolutely blown away by the feedback and support, and the art (!!!! the art!!!!!) that I've received for this, and it's made it even more fun to write knowing I get to share it with all of you :)
> 
> Now I have some EXCITING NEWS. In case y'all didn't notice it- this story is now officially Part 1 of a SERIES!!! I have about 4 Parts planned (no promises if they'll be as long as RS) but, by all means I'm happy to add on to those plans, so feel free to add some prompts to your comments, or over on tumblr (my name's the same) if you think you wanna see Shiro get #wrekt in other ways!
> 
> [AidanChase](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanChase/pseuds/AidanChase) came up with an INCREDIBLE theory last chapter that Rahjim (and his species) are incredibly empathetic- and it struck me as such a great idea, that I could still make work, that I totally ran with it. So everyone thank AidenChase for pointing out what became a perfect detail!
> 
> Honestly tho, while Rahjim was conceived as a 'just treat Shiro right' character. It's been all of y'all's input that turned him into the cool guy he is now. So thank you everyone for the group effort!
> 
> AND THE BEST NEWS OF ALL: AAARRRRTTTT!!!!
> 
> (nsfw) [This INCREDIBLE comic of the cockpit scene](https://realityisiron.tumblr.com/post/158180780239/this-scene-is-somewhere-in-royally-screwed-by) was done by RealityisIron
> 
> (nsfw) [These beautiful and dynamic poses of Rahjim](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/post/157862646457/got-a-ton-of-sketching-done-yesterday-have-to) are by the lovely Kickingshoes (and there's a bonus of Shiro & Rahjim in the cockpit!)
> 
> (y'all sure loved that scene... me too...)
> 
> [Here's another Rahjim](https://68.media.tumblr.com/38ae914b07436ffe0622fae6c05261b4/tumblr_messaging_olyptupZzi1qmmk9t_1280.png) by Libellule! Look at his nice smile and soft hair. I wanna go chill w him in those pillows (ok... maybe more of a natflix and chill...)

Rahjim keeps fingerfucking him, even after Shiro’s come down from the orgasm. He has a feeling that this won’t stop unless Rahjim switches his hand out for his cock, and really, Shiro’s okay with it. Rahjim’s gone down to two fingers so it’s not as intense, but each slow movement of his wrist sends goosebumps up Shiro’s body.

“Mmm,” Shiro says. He hopes he’s being eloquent enough.

Rahjim chuckles, and kisses down Shiro’s chest. He shifts back on the bed to give himself room to start licking stripes of come off of Shiro’s stomach. His second tongue makes Shiro shiver with the tingling trail it leaves on his skin.

Rahjim savors each spot he licks off, as if he’s tasting something so great he needs to remember it forever. Shiro cranes his neck to watch.

“I can’t believe you like the taste,” Shiro comments.

Rahjim laps at another spot of come, and then presses his mouth down to suck— and Shiro can feel the press of his teeth— and it makes Shiro drop his head back onto the bed. He closes his eyes and tries to lose himself to the rhythm of Rahjim’s fingers inside of him, and his warm, wet tongue on Shiro’s stomach.

Rahjim pulls out of him to adjust the angle as he crawls up Shiro's body. He sucks a new hickey into Shiro's neck as he slides two fingers back inside. Shiro moans and he feels Rahjim's grips on him tighten at the sound.

“You're absolutely stunning,” Rahjim says.

Shiro feels loose and relaxed, still riding the glow from his orgasm. He blinks his eyes open to smile up at Rahjim.

“This is not how I thought my night was going to go,” he says with a laugh.

“But it's how your every night should be,” Rahjim says.

“I’d never get anything done,” Shiro points out, “I’d have to spend all day recovering.”

“What a life,” Rahjim says enviously, “maybe you should stay.”

His tone is light enough that Shiro knows it's a joke. They both have their different lives and important duties to get back to.

“And be your concubine?” Shiro’s never considered himself the kind of person that people would go out of their way to sleep with. But the way Rahjim treats him makes him feel like maybe he is worth the effort.

Rahjim furrows his brows, “Concubine?”

Shiro explains and gets a laugh when Rahjim wrinkles his nose in disgust.

“Why would I enlist someone to provide me sex when all I need to do is ask? What if they didn't want it but they felt obligated? I don't like that.”

“That's something I really like about you,” Shiro replies. It's a surprise of truth in the middle of a pointless conversation. His chest feels tight and he glances away nervously,

“That you're good,” Shiro tries to explain, “and you care about people. I know you're nice and you want everyone to be happy.”

Rahjim brushes his prostate with his fingers and Shiro lets out an airy “ah!” in response. He feels like it might be a form of reward for opening up, and the thought of being trained or rewarded like this makes him blush.

“Is that why you said yes?” Rahjim asks, “because you knew I'd be good to you.”

“I didn't know how good,” Shiro jokes, and then adds, “can we switch— change legs? It's getting sore.”

Rahjim obliges and they take a moment to switch which leg Rahjim bends up, nearly to Shiro's chest, to give him a good angle to keep working his fingers in and out of Shiro. Shiro stretches his other leg out in relief.

“But um,” Shiro thinks back, and it's so surreal to him to be having a casual conversation while Rahjim’s fucking Shiro with his fingers— Shiro keeps being distracted by the faint wet sounds Rahjim’s hand makes, slicked up as it is, “I… I'm not sure why I said yes. I was curious, yeah, because you're an alien. But by all means you are— you were a stranger. I wanted to say no, but… I figured that when something went wrong, we’d be gone tomorrow and I'd never have to see you again.”

He doesn't mean any of it to be insulting, but Shiro feels like maybe he should have been a little less honest. He pretty much admitted to using Rahjim.

“It was very brave of you to say yes,” Rahjim replies, “after all that you've been through. And I'm honoured that you said yes to me, even if you weren't sure of what might happen.”

“I didn't think we’d be able to— to do anything,” Shiro admits, “I thought I was broken. I kind of wanted to prove how broken I was so I could stop thinking about things I didn't deserve.”

Rahjim presses his prostate and Shiro lifts his hips off the bed with a moan.

“I am happy to prove you wrong,” Rahjim says.

Shiro scrubs his face with his hands. This is as good a time as any to say it.

“I don't think… I didn't say thank you. For earlier. Um, after the first round, in the shower. I was really out of it, and I'm sorry I did that to you. But thank you for, well, being you.”

“I should apologize,” Rahjim says, “you told me this was your first time after your imprisonment, and I should have been more aware to not be so intense. We should have built up to that, rather than start. I'm sorry for triggering that response in you.”

Shiro's about to argue but Rahjim cuts him off,

“And it was no trouble. Don't thank me for what I would do under any circumstances. You handled that whole situation very well— you communicated and were patient with me trying to understand what you were going through. So thank you for letting me take care of you.”

There's a lot of emotions in Shiro's throat. He's never been thanked for being weak before.

“You need to come down here so I can kiss you,” Shiro orders.

Rahjim is happy to obey.

 

* * *

 

They kiss until Shiro's mouth feels like it could be on fire from Rahjim’s tongue. Rahjim doesn't stop curling his fingers inside Shiro the whole time, making it hard for Shiro to pay attention.

“What can I do to you next?” Rahjim asks.

“I need you to fuck me again,” Shiro says. He's never felt so loose and relaxed before. He… he's finding it hard to _not_ feel happy. He can't stop smiling. It’s not even a big, toothy smile it’s a small dopey one that he couldn’t stop even if he tried.

Rahjim’s fingers curl around Shiro's cock and Shiro shakes his head.

“I don't think I've got anything more to give,” he says, “you already got more than I thought I had.”

“If you insist,” Rahjim agrees, with a small sigh of disappointment, “how shall I have you?”

Shiro knows exactly how he wants this to go. He also knows exactly how he should ask— but it's embarrassing. Rahjim wants him to be open, without reservation. Shiro can do that. Or at least, he can try.

It's hard to convince himself to push Rahjim's hand away, to make him finally pull out. Shiro rolls over and gets himself on his hands and knees, and then looks back to Rahjim over his shoulder. Rahjim is watching him curiously, but very intent on Shiro's movements.

“Like this,” Shiro says. He arches his back, leaning down a bit on his elbows so he’s outright presenting his ass.

Shiro smiles when he sees realization come to Rahjim's face, and the Prince licks his lips.

It's… Shiro’'s always found something erotic about being taken from behind. It's a little rougher, a little more hedonistic, and Shiro tends to feel like his pleasure is a product of his partners, rather than the goal. It's one of his favourites, for many more reasons too, but it's always embarrassing to ask for it. Shiro tries not to feel self-conscious, but it’s a losing battle right now.

Rahjim gets up on his knees, moving to hold Shiro by the hips with two hands, and then runs his other hands down Shiro's back.

“I can't see your face this way,” he says. He sounds like he's whining.

Shiro cranes his neck to look back at Rahjim, “I promise to be loud.”

Rahjim sighs with a smile, “As if I could deny you anything.”

Shiro ducks his head. It's still weird to ask for what he wants, and that Rahjim is happy to give it. He could get used to it. Maybe.

“I'll be very gentle,” Rahjim says, “do you feel stretched enough?”

Shiro nods. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so prepped before in his life, “Oh yeah. Let me have it.”

Rahjim leans forwards to kiss a trail down Shiro’s spine. Shiro closes his eyes and tries to relax. He’s so excited that it’s hard to— but also a little nervous. Rahjim fucked him until he pretty much passed out last time, is this time going to be any different?

He feels the touch of Rahjim's cock, and it slides in easily. It's the thin tip, and already the anticipation of what to come has Shiro's stomach turning in excited knots.

Rahjim slides past Shiro's prostate, and he must have planned it because he gives it a heavy drag with his cock, and Shiro shouts. He feels Rahjim’s hand trail down his back— again, perhaps a reward or encouragement to be loud. The slick slide of Rahjim into him feels so good. Shiro normally rides a thick cock in silence, biting his lips, but he did make a promise.

He lets out a heavy sigh, and let's the moans that he normally holds back fall out. He sounds lewd, pornographic even. He could be putting on a show, if Rahjim wasn't so capable of wringing all of these sounds out of him. His breath hitches as the stretch gets more intense, and Rahjim pauses to pull out and push in again, and his gasp turns into a low groan.

Shiro's not going to get over how big Rahjim's cock is. It goes on forever. He's had it in him, in his hands and down his throat, and he still can't believe how big it is. Bottoming out takes forever. Shiro's arms and legs are shaking, and his back arches every time Rahjim pulls out to drive in further. He’s so slick that there’s no burn— as much as Shiro likes that sometimes— and Shiro can feel it starting to drip down his thighs.

Rahjim pets his sides, trailing fingers along his ribs and down his back, on his thighs. He's talking an unending stream of praise. Shiro feels so good, he's perfection like this. Shiro deserves to have someone fuck him like this every day. Rahjim’s so lucky Shiro agreed to this. And on and on and on.

What Shiro would give to be fucked like this every day, he thinks to himself. Life on the Castle would change a lot if this were the case. But it's not. The Castle is leaving in a few hours and Shiro's going to be on it, and he's going to leave this all behind. It feels sad when he thinks about it like that.

He feels the firm press of Rahjim’s hips as Rahjim gets the last inches into him. It punches a loud groan out of Shiro. He loves getting penetrated— the first thrust in is always the most sensational— and with Rahjim it goes on for so long.

“Are you okay?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro takes a moment to breathe. He's leaving, and he probably won't ever see Rahjim again. He wants to make this count.

Shiro reaches back to grip Rahjim’s wrist on his hip, and twists to look Rahjim in the eyes.

“I need you to leave bruises,” Shiro says.

Rahjim’s mouth falls open.

“I— I want to remember this,” Shiro explains. It feels a little overdramatic now that he's said it.

Rahjim's grip tightens, his fingers dig into Shiro's skin.

“I thought we agreed to be gentle,” Rahjim says.

“I changed my mind,” Shiro shrugs, “besides, you can be gentle later,” and he smiles, “maybe in the shower? We’re going to have to shower again eventually.”

“Eventually,” Rahjim agrees, “and I'll make sure we need one.”

“So you'll do it?” Shiro asks, and squeezes Rahjim's wrist again, “I want to have reminders of tonight.”

“Pace yourself,” Rahjim warns him, “we have hours before you have to leave. And I plan to fuck you through all of them.”

Chills run down Shiro's spine, and he's sure Rahjim notices the response.

“Did I say something right?” Rahjim asks coyly.

“I, um,” Shiro licks his lips, “I like it when you threaten me like that.”

“When I tell you what you're going to do? When you feel like I've taken control from you?” Rahjim asks, “I've noticed.”

It's one thing to say he likes it, it's another to be called out for it. Shiro tries not to be self conscious.

“Remember what I said,” Rahjim says, “your job tonight is to tell me how you feel— if something is good, or if it's bad, and what you like. Otherwise,” his voice drops to a low growl, “your body is mine to use.”

Shiro feels like he's been punched in the gut. He's winded. If he hadn't come like five times already he’d be totally hard again.

He's completely unprepared when Rahjim pulls out of him, and Shiro whimpers. Loudly.

“You liked this so much, how about we do it again?” Rahjim says, conversationally, as if he’s talking about something mundane, like the weather, and then he's pushing back in. Harder, faster. Shiro’s mouth drops open, he throws his head back and he yells until Rahjim is completely inside of him again.

Rahjim likes that response so much that he repeats the motion. Pulling all the way out, the slick slide of his cock and the ridges and bumps on it pulling quickly out of Shiro, and then thrusting back in. Even when he's moving faster, snapping his hips and pulling Shiro's hips up to meet him, it still takes so long for him to sink in or pull out. Shiro can't catch his breath, it feels so good. He's just letting his mouth hang open, letting Rahjim drive the gasps and shouts out of him. The long moans that are more like a wail as Rahjim slides past and presses down on his prostate, as he digs his fingertips into Shiro's hips and waist hard enough to hurt, and pulls Shiro back onto his cock hard enough that Shiro's knees come up off the bed.

Shiro loves every second of it.

His fingers twist in the sheets on the bed— his right hand may have ripped them, but he can't be sure— his whole body is rocking with Rahjim's thrusts. Rahjim switches from pulling out entirely, to just partially. His thrusts come faster, sharper. Shiro's being held in place by Rahjim’s hands clamped at his hips. There's another at his waist, and the fourth comes up to his shoulder, pulling back. Shiro arches his back, letting Rahjim pull him upright until he's within reach to kiss again.

They're messy, and at a bad angle. Shiro's bouncing too hard to be steady, and he can't stop moaning. Rahjim licks into his open mouth, bites a line down his jaw. He can't get enough of fucking Shiro like this.

Shiro reaches back, tangling his left hand in Rahjim’s thick hair. Rahjim bites down at the juncture where Shiro's neck meets his shoulder.

Shiro's loud— he's never been this loud without saying something coherent. The only sentences he can manage are ‘yes!’ at various volumes, or shouting Rahjim’s name like it's a prayer, a plea, a promise or some mix of all three.

Rahjim is unrelenting. It's the same pace as before, and now Shiro knows he can keep this up. He can keep going until Shiro forgets how to say anything but beg for more, and he’ll keep fucking him until Shiro's done. Shiro can't imagine how sore he's going to feel. He hopes he’ll feel it for days, a reminder of this.

The idea of sitting at the dining table with everyone, of being surrounded by his team, and carrying all these bruises and bites and sore muscles from tonight under his clothes thrills Shiro. It's a secret he gets to have. He can undress when he's alone and see all the places Rahjim held him, remember all the things Rahjim whispered to him and how good it feels to be filled up and held in four arms.

There's so much more Shiro wants to do. But first, he's curious...

Shiro tilts his head back so his mouth is even with Rahjim's ear.

“I want you to come in me now,” Shiro says, “but I want it hard, first.”

Rahjim growls what might be some curses, “Harder? Be careful what you wish for.”

The threat makes Shiro grin widely. One of Rahjim's hands come up to grab Shiro by the back of the neck, pushing him forwards onto all fours. He's about to get it so good.

Shiro laughs— and then he's not.

The grip is too tight and he's choking and his stomach is sick and he's cold, he's terrified.

“Stop!” Shiro shouts.

Rahjim's hands fly off of him. Shiro curls in on himself, gasping for air. He's shaking.

“Shiro?” Rahjim asks. He feels a tentative touch on his back.

Shiro sucks in a ragged breath, “‘M sorry,” he gets out, “I didn't— it just—”

“It's okay,” Rahjim shushes him, “you don't have to explain. It was something I did?”

Shiro nods meekly, “Yeah, the neck. I couldn't breathe.”

“I'm sorry,” Rahjim says, “I never meant to distress you. Would you like me to pull out? What will make you feel safe?”

“Just stay,” Shiro shakes his head, “I just— I just need a minute. I don't wanna stop.”

Shiro feels Rahjim trail his fingertips up Shiro's back, “Is this okay?” He asks. His fingers are high on Shiro's back but safely away from touching his neck.

God, how embarrassing. Rahjim has been biting and sucking on his neck all night, and yet _this_ is what makes Shiro have an episode. Right in the middle of it!

He takes another deep breath. It's hard to be at all dignified when you're curled over, nearly sobbing, with your ass in the air and someone balls-deep inside of you. Shiro pushes himself up on his hands. His arms and legs feel a lot shakier than they did just a minute ago.

“Okay,” Shiro says, and he looks over his shoulder, “I'm sorry for freaking out— I don't know what it was. But I'm good.”

“Don't push yourself,” Rahjim insists, “not for my sake.”

“I'm okay,” Shiro says again, and he means it, “now I know I have a boundary. Nothing tight on my neck.”

Rahjim runs two hands up Shiro's back, squeezing his shoulders, while the other two settle back on his hips.

“I'm sorry,” Rahjim says again, “are you sure?”

Shiro ducks his head to his shoulder, to press a kiss to the back of Rahjim’s hand.

“Thank you for stopping,” Shiro says, “and for being understanding.”

“I could come now, if you'd like?” Rahjim offers, “and we can wind down a bit.”

Shiro shakes his head, “No, I really want you to fuck me. I want to feel it. I wanna be sore.”

“You have no idea what it does to me to hear you say those things,” Rahjim growls.

“I'll tell you if I need anything,” Shiro promises.

“And you are being so good at communicating,” Rahjim agrees, as if Shiro's a child to be praised. It warms him up all the same, pushing aside the fading queasiness and cold dread from before.

Rahjim works back up to the pace they were at, but he takes a little time. He makes short, abrupt thrusts that create an overwhelming sound of sex. The slap of skin on skin, the sloppy wet drag of Rahjim’s cock in and out of Shiro, Rahjim’s declarations of adoration, and Shiro's responding moans and whimpers.

It takes very little time before Rahjim’s pace becomes brutal. He's lifting Shiro by the hips for a better angle, lifting Shiro's knees off the bed and leaving Shiro to try and support himself on just his hands. His whole body is rocking with the impact and momentum of Rahjim’s thrusts, and his shaky arms can't take it and Shiro tumbles onto his face. He's clawing at the bedsheets and blankets, trying to find any purchase to centre himself on. Shiro's completely at Rahjim’s mercy, completely open and willing to be fucked until Rahjim decides he's had enough. His jaw is slack, he's drooling. His right hand rips right through the sheets as Rahjim starts pounding into his prostate.

Shiro completely loses time. He doesn't exist beyond the waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He's only contained by the warm, unyielding breadth of Rahjim’s hands on him, and the feel of being filled beyond his wildest dreams by Rahjim's cock.

Rahjim could have fucked him for hours or for minutes and Shiro wouldn't know the difference. His eyes are rolling back in his head, he's been reduced to loud, gasping moans.

He feels Rahjim’s cock get firm— grow a little thicker inside of him as it swells up. Shiro keens and his back arches.

Rahjim’s hot come takes him by surprise again. It's on the edge of burning— feels like it should hurt— but it's just shy of damaging. It's shocking enough to bring him back to himself.

Shiro's sprawled on his face, drool smeared up his cheek, with Rahjim holding his ass in the air as he empties his load into Shiro.

It takes some effort to unclench his fingers from the tattered bedsheets.

Rahjim leans down and kisses a line up Shiro's sweaty spine.

“Okay?” He asks.

Shiro doesn't feel capable of coherent thought just yet, and raises his hand for a thumbs-up.

Rahjim laughs, and keeps peppering Shiro's shoulders with kisses. Another wave of hot come fills Shiro up, and his toes curl as he rides out the unfamiliar sensation.

“When you can, I’d like to hear you talk,” Rahjim asks.

Shiro thinks it's a weird request— until he remembers that he went mostly non verbal when he had the episode after their round in the cockpit. Rahjim's checking in on him.

“Can't speak,” he groans, “brains got fucked out.”

“You're welcome,” Rahjim says.

Rahjim rubs soothing circles on Shiro's back as he finishes his climax. He settles Shiro’s legs back down on the mattress and then drapes himself over Shiro's back. Shiro drops, boneless, so they're sprawled on the bed.

Shiro matches his breathing to the rise and fall of Rachjim’s breaths on his skin. He feels heavy and languid— loose enough that he never wants to get up. Despite the mild chill in the air he’s warm— not to mention the odd feeling of being _hot_ inside from Rahjim’s come— and Rahjim’s weight on his back is comforting rather than constricting. He could fall asleep like this, in all honesty.

Rahjim moves his cock inside of him, making Shiro flinch at the weird sensation. He’s still too stiff to pull out.

“You are so incredible,” Rahjim says softly.

Shiro turns his head, propping himself up with a hand under his chin so he can look at Rahjim, “Why?” he asks.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rahjim says, with no sense of irony, “you’re breathtaking and smart. Your humor is infectious, and you’re so attractive I can’t believe I managed to go so long without asking you to bed. And despite all of the things you’ve survived, all the hardships you’ve lived through— look at you. You’re smiling.”

Shiro ducks his head back into the sheets, “You— you’re so much. I don’t know how to handle it when you say stuff like that.”

“Just know that it’s the truth,” Rahjim says.

“You make me smile,” Shiro says softly.

“I should hope so,” Rahjim grins. Shiro chuckles with him.

It's an odd angle, but Shiro feels butterflies when Rahjim kisses him.

 

* * *

 

“So do your p-people ever get m-married?” Shiro asks.

He lets out a stuttered gasp as Rahjim thrusts up into him. They've moved from the bed, up to the wall. Rahjim is holding Shiro up with just his hands, Shiro has his right arm behind him to brace against the wall, giving him purchase to move his hips. He’s never been fucked up against a wall like this. He’s never been fucked while being held up like this. It’s so novel an experience that Shiro can’t get over it. His abs are going to kill him for this tomorrow, but it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

It's a long fuck, this round, with Rahjim thrusting up in short, slow movements that make Shiro gasp a ridiculous rendition of ‘oh! Oh! Oh!’ into the relative silence around them. Shiro's sure he's leaking Rahjim's come, but neither of them seem to care. They've been making out, using their hands on each other. Rahjim has been giving Shiro an absent-minded handjob, and while it hasn't done much to stimulate an erection, it feels so good that Shiro hasn't told him to stop.

Rahjim slows down his thrusts, and Shiro breathes a moment while he adjusts.

“Not in the way you've described,” Rahjim explains, “we… we have no concept of staying with one partner for such an extended amount of time.”

Rahjim lifts Shiro and slides him back down his cock. They both groan happily.

“Does that mean you don't fall in love?” Shiro asks.

“I fall in love nearly every day,” Rahjim says, “do humans have a limited capacity to love?”

“Not limited,” Shiro explains quickly, “but a goal is to find the one person who you'll love for the rest of your life.”

“Forgive me for saying, but spending a lifetime with only one friend or partner sounds lonely. I don't understand.”

“Well it's not that you only spend your time with one person— you still have other friends—” Shiro's eyes flutter closed for a moment as Rahjim pulls him down hard on his cock. The burn of the stretch, of being so full like this, makes it very hard to keep track of his thoughts.

“So you don't love your friends?”

Shiro shakes his head, “Yes— but it's not the same. It's a different type of love.”

“So in human terms you and I cannot be friends,” Rahjim surmised.

“No, we’re friends. It's just— it's not a hard rule.”

“So how do humans differentiate?”

“Umm... we call it platonic and romantic love. I guess. How do you do it?”

“I am not friends with anyone I am not willing to sleep with,” Rahjim says simply, “because if I care about them then I want to make sure they're happy and taken care of.”

“So… we’re friends? And we weren’t friends before?” Shiro's having a hard time wrapping his mind around Rahjim's point of view.

Rahjim laughs, and leans in to kiss him, “Of course we are. I realize though that we are lucky I have not been freer with my words— we may have run into some confusion.”

“Over-” Shiro gasps as Rahjim rocks up into him, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he savours the feeling, “over what?”

“Well, over the fact that I love you.”

“You what?!” Shiro loses his grip on the wall behind them, and would have fallen if Rahjim wasn't holding him up.

Rahjim waits until he's sure Shiro's safe, and then laughs, “we just discussed our differences! Why are you so shocked?”

“You… you love me,” Shiro repeats, “but in like… in the alien sense.”

“Alien?” Rahjim snorts, “I think you're the alien here.”

Shiro laughs at that, though it sounds a little panicked even to him, “I guess that's true— but love? Me? Really?”

“How could I not fall in love with someone so extraordinary?” Rahjim asks, “but don't think of it in the human sense. It’s not a binding, eternal love. Think of it in the normal way: an open, happy love.”

“The normal way,” Shiro says incredulously, “is it… normal to say that? In this kind of scenario?”

“It's not uncommon,” Rahjim says, “usually it's customary to admit around the fourth interaction, but I can assure you no one would be shocked were I to tell them I love you.”

Shiro feels himself blushing at the words. This took a very unexpected turn.

“If a human said they loved me in the middle of a one-night-stand, I’d probably make up an excuse to bolt,” Shiro explains, “it's… you _don't_ do that.”

“I thought the goal was to find someone to love forever? Why would that make you uneasy?” Rahjim asks.

Shiro shakes his head, “It's complicated, forget about it.”

“If I am making you uncomfortable I won't say it again. I'm not asking for any promises or obligations on your behalf, if that is what worries you,” Rahjim says.

“It's… I think it'll freak me out every time. But I get it— I think. So you don't have to stop if you don't want to,” Shiro says.

It feels weird— still good, still soft, but weird— when Rahjim kisses him again. There's a love confession between them and even though it's not a human one, Shiro's hyper aware of it.

“Shiro,” Rahjim asks, “may I make a request?”

“Of course,” Shiro says. Shiro doesn’t think he could say no to anything Rahjim asks of him.

“I would like to make love to you, if that is acceptable.”

The tone in his voice makes it sound like it's an ending. Right, Rahjim has a pretty good internal clock.

“How much time do we have left?” Shiro asks.

“Enough for this, and then a shower, if we want to get any rest,” Rahjim says sadly.

As much as Shiro's enjoying everything, he can feel the ache of fatigue under his skin. He's survived on less sleep, but he does need to be functional for tomorrow— today. It's probably a good idea to be winding down. How does Rahjim have the brain cells to be able to keep track of any of that still? Shiro can barely form a sentence.

“It sounds perfect,” Shiro says.

 

* * *

 

They move back to the crew bunks and take up a different one than the one they used before. Shiro’s getting a bit of a perverse thrill at how messy they are.

Rahjim can't quite manage to lay Shiro down on the bed while staying inside of him, so Shiro hisses at the quick slide out of him, and then sprawls out on the sheets.

There's the moment where Rahjim isn't touching him, and it makes Shiro aware of how much they've been touching all night. It feels weird to not have Rahjim's body on his. He doesn't like it. Shiro lifts a hand to reach out to him.

Rahjim is already climbing onto the bed, and takes Shiro's hand, lacing their fingers together.

He doesn't let go as he braces over Shiro, instead pushing Shiro's arm back so their hands are above Shiro's head, resting on the bed.

“How do you do that?” Shiro asks. Rahjim's settling onto him, and Shiro spreads his legs a little wider to make room.

“Do what?” Rahjim asks curiously.

“You know what I want,” Shiro says, “or what I need. When I'm getting caught up in my head you know when to bring me back.”

Rahjim leans down to press a soft kiss to Shiro's throat.

“You're not entirely subtle,” he says softly. There's fondness in his tone, no joking around, “when you slip away, I can see it in your face.” Rahjim traces his fingers down Shiro's cheek, and moves his palm to cup Shiro's face, “I can see it in your eyes— when you're not seeing me,” and another hand trails down Shiro’s chest, “and I can feel it when you are going somewhere else.”

“My heartbeat?” Shiro asks curiously.

Rahjim shakes his head, and they pause the questions a moment to kiss. It feels decadent, to just be kissing, just touching, and feeling the warmth of Rahjim's body and the smell of him, laying sprawled on a bed and feeling so soft and safe that Shiro doesn't want the moment to end.

“I can _feel_ you,” Rahjim explains, by not explaining at all.

“I don't… what does that mean?” Shiro asks.

They kiss again. Slow, affectionate and warm.

“Humans are empathetic, are you not?” Rahjim asks, “I was sure Allura described your species as such.”

Shiro furrows his brows, and laughs when Rahjim leans down to rub their noses together.

“We are? But I think this is another translation error,” Shiro says.

Rahjim cocks his head in confusion. It's so adorable that for a moment Shiro feels some sort of endearment bubbling up in his throat.

“No?” He says slowly, “you can read my emotions, can you not?

“I can read your body language, and your expressions,” Shiro says, “but I feel like you're saying you can _feel_ my emotions?”

“Yes. It's empathy, just as I explained. Is it called something else on Earth?” Rahjim asks.

“You… you're psychic?” Shiro realizes, “can you read my mind?”

“Telepathy?” Rahjim shakes his head, “no, just emotions.”

“You can feel the emotions of people around you,” Shiro states.

Suddenly a lot of things make sense. No wonder Rahjim has been all about making Shiro feel good tonight. And that his version of sex is all about _feeling_ good rather than finishing.

“Of course,” Rahjim says, “I've never denied it— did you not know?”

Shiro bursts into laughter, and drags a hand down his face, “Oh my god I'm so clueless.”

“I told you I knew you were good from the moment we met!” Rahjim says.

Shiro's blushing— a mix of embarrassment and still a little bothered by Rahjim's unfiltered praise.

“And I kept asking why,” Shiro says, “you didn't realize that I didn't know?”

Rahjim laughs, and ducks his head to nuzzle at Shiro's neck, “Apparently we are both a little dense.”

Shiro has something witty to say but Rahjim lifts his head to kiss him and the kissing is much nicer than getting the final say.

“I love you,” Rahjim whispers. Shiro shudders. Rahjim moves back to kiss Shiro's collarbone, “is that alright?”

“It's— I know what you mean, but it's still weird,” Shiro admits, “and I, I don't know if I can say it back.”

“Do nothing that makes you uncomfortable,” Rahjim reminds him, and then taps his own temple with a wry grin, “I'll know.”

“That won't make you feel bad?” Shiro asks.

“Not at all,” Rahjim says, “Shiro you have let me make you happy. And you have trusted me. Our cultural values over one word cannot take away from the grand meanings of your actions.”

“You made it…” easy wasn't the right word, so Shiro substitutes, “you made me feel safe enough to trust.”

Rahjim smiles at him, and Shiro squeezes his hand that's still holding his.

The scene lasts a moment longer before Rahjim draws back, “Now, we have dallied too long. I want to make love to you.”

He lifts Shiro's legs to wrap around his waist, tilting Shiro's hips up. Shiro goes loose and enjoys being manhandled.

“Isn't that what we’ve been doing all night?” Shiro asks.

“That was all about making you comfortable,” Rahjim says. He's leaning down onto Shiro again, and Shiro can feel one of his hands at his ass, as his curious fingers dip inside of him. Shiro gasps at the nice stretch.

“I'm very comfortable,” Shiro grins. He can feel the touch of Rahjim’s cock at his entrance now, beginning its long slide back inside of him.

Rahjim kisses him and smiles as Shiro gasps at the feeling of being filled up again, “Good,” Rahjim says, “like I said before: you are to tell me what makes you happy, and so long as you are happy, you are mine to use.”

He's saying it to rile him up and Shiro doesn't even feel embarrassed at the moan that pulls out of him.

“Yes,” Shiro gasps.

Rahjim kisses him again, “And now that you are happy, I am going to take what I want.”

Shiro's toes are curling as Rahjim's cock slides deeper inside him.

“Please,” Shiro moans, “anything.”

Rahjim kisses him, and Shiro brings up his hands to tangle in Rahjim's thick hair. There's something indescribable about making out while getting fucked, especially when it's by the same person. Rahjim kisses like he's been starved, and Shiro’s his favourite food. He savours, he's slow, and he never gives any indication that there's anything else he might possibly want to do.

Shiro moans, open-mouthed, as the stretch of Rahjim’s cock inside him makes his back arch.

“You feel so good,” Rahjim whispers.

“You too,” Shiro manages to get out, and then lets his head fall back to moan louder. He's so sensitive— everything feels so much more intense.

“You take me in so well,” Rahjim continues, and he kisses a line down Shiro's throat, “like you were made for this.”

“Mmm,” Shiro agrees.

“You should be spoiled,” Rahjim goes on, “with a long line of lovers, all eager to please you. Who adore you and take you apart and build you back up.”

“That sounds more like you,” Shiro says, “what you'd want.”

“You wouldn't want that?” Rahjim assesses, ponders the thought, and then continues, “mm, right, humans love different. Perhaps for one night, then. I think you would enjoy one of my orgies.”

Shiro can barely handle one Rahjim. The thought of more— of more cocks or tentacles or whatever else aliens might have, more compliments and more hands holding him up and moving him around— makes his mouth a little dry. It's already hard enough to be the centre of attention with just Rahjim— the thought of _more_ almost terrifies him.

Then again, Shiro's finding that he really likes to be scared. At least, scared by things like this. It's unfair that Rahjim can get to him this easily.

“I might…” Shiro admits, and bites his lip before saying, “but only if you're there,”

That might be as close as he'll ever get to an ‘I love you’ with Rahjim. He hopes that's enough.

“I'd have you first, while everyone watches as I show them how to pleasure you,” Rahjim leans down to kiss him, and might have missed the way Shiro's eyes go as wide as dinner plates.

He can see it— in a room with all those eyes on him. Rahjim would have Shiro sit in his lap like in the cockpit, and would take his time fingering him open. Shiro would be so nervous and self-conscious to start, but Rahjim wouldn't give him time to be afraid. His whole face feels like it's on fire and Shiro's more than alarmed by how much he _likes_ that idea. Of Rahjim being proud of how desirable Shiro is, telling him how good he is and how much everyone is enjoying the show. Of trying to keep composure while everyone watches Rahjim take him apart— maybe they touch themselves while watching and Shiro can see them getting off to him being put on display— and then maybe Rahjim would make them fuck Shiro right there— right in his lap. It's straight out of a porn fantasy. It's ridiculous. Shiro's never even thought about something like this but Rahjim makes it seem like such a great idea that Shiro doesn't think he could say no.

Shiro moans into the kiss and Rahjim laughs.

“Now you'll _have_ to come back,” Rahjim says.

“I think you're right,” Shiro agrees, and uses his grips on Rahjim's hair to pull him down for another kiss.

Rahjim bottoms out, grinding his hips down while Shiro's knees come up in pleasure. They're kissing messy, sloppy and nearly as slick as Rahjim’s cock. Shiro never wants this to end.

Without his hips moving, Rahjim's cock starts sliding out of Shiro. Shiro gasps into Rahjim's mouth, tightens his pull on Rahjim’s hair, and locks his ankles behind Rahjim’s back.

“You need a lover who makes you feel beloved, and important,” Rahjim says, and kisses along Shiro's jawline. He's still sliding out of Shiro. It's a slow, tender fuck.

Making love, Rahjim had called it.

“Huh?” Shiro manages to respond. He's shocked his eyes aren't crossed with how good he feels.

“I want you to be happy— and being taken apart like this makes you happy,” Rahjim explains, “it's customary to offer potential new partners to someone you love.”

“You're going to set me up?” Shiro's not even sure he's surprised.

“But you humans want to mate for life,” Rahjim says, “which narrows possibilities, but doesn't limit them. I'm trying to think if I know anyone who would make you happy as a lifelong mate.”

Shiro kisses him, groans as Rahjim’s cock starts pushing back into him. He doesn't think it even pulled halfway out, and so the stretch is constant and lovely and coils low in his stomach.

“I don't know if I'm looking to get married yet,” Shiro laughs, “besides, I'm pretty sure you only know aliens.”

“Aliens,” Rahjim snorts as if Shiro's made a joke, “I know many wonderful people. I just don't know if they want to sleep with an alien like _you_.”

“Their loss,” Shiro says.

“Yes,” Rahjim agrees. When he kisses Shiro again, hungry and firm, Shiro realizes he can tell when he's done something to affect Rahjim. Those moments he's complimented himself— both intended to be joking or sarcastic, or when he lets go of his composure— that's when Rahjim starts to get a little unhinged. He really wasn't kidding when he said he gets off on Shiro feeling good.

“Maybe your love is here in the stars,” Rahjim offers, “maybe that's why you're here.”

“I'm here to defeat Zarkon,” Shiro says.

“Then your purpose is war,” Rahjim points out, “and it is a noble purpose. But wouldn't it be grander if you were intended for love instead?”

It does sound a lot nicer.

“So keep your eyes open,” Rahjim says, “you'll find someone who you want to trust— who will see you and adore you like I do.”

“They'd better fuck me like you do,” Shiro says.

Rahjim laughs, “No one can fuck you like I can.”

Shiro finds it hard to argue with him, so he laughs and kisses him instead.

 

* * *

 

They kiss a lot more. At another point Rahjim starts playing with Shiro's pecs again. Shiro shows him how he likes his nipples pinched or bitten. Rahjim delights himself with how he can get Shiro writhing and refusing to ask for it to stop because it feels so good.

Rahjim shows Shiro how to pet the skin down his front, how to tease and move it and Shiro finally gets to make Rahjim curse, gets to feel how his cock twitches when Shiro touches him just right.  

Rahjim has an erogenous zone on the underside of his second tongue, that Shiro can stimulate if he bites gently or sucks hard at it. It's completely weird, and practising has them both laughing.

It also goes to show that there's so much Shiro doesn't know. And so much more to learn. He would have thought he'd known everything about Rahjim and his body, and yet there's so much he doesn't.

At some point they switch positions so Rahjim is sitting with Shiro facing him. Shiro's sitting, his weight fully supported in Rahjim's hands, holding him open to keep slowly thrusting in and out of him at the same slow pace.

Shiro has his arms around Rahjim's neck, holding him loosely so he can get a purchase to keep kissing him. He could lose hours kissing him. He probably has.

It's only because he's spent so long close to him, that Shiro realizes Rahjim has a light scar on his upper right shoulder.

He touches it gently as Rahjim starts kissing down the side of his neck.

It's a bit of a mess of scar tissue. Looks like it hurt.

“What happened?” Shiro asks.

Rahjim doesn't lift his head, “My short-lived attempt to join the fight. I was young. Believed I was meant to be a hero. And I was very foolish. As if my recklessness somehow protected me from the unknown.”

“You were a soldier?” Shiro realizes.

“I wanted to be in the fight, with the Rebellion. I was far enough removed from the Royal line at the time that I thought it was my only chance for a meaningful life. I was injured on my first deployment, and due to sad circumstances, I returned home,” Rahjim sighs, “I would probably be dead by now, had I remained with the Rebellion, but duty called and I had to take the throne.”

“I'm happy you're alive now,” Shiro says.

“As am I,” Rahjim agrees, “but sometimes I wonder how my life would be if I possessed a true warrior's heart.”

Shiro knows he's talking about him. That Shiro's the one with the warrior's heart. That Shiro is brave where Rahjim is not, and that he's admirable for it.

Rahjim kisses the curve of Shiro's right shoulder. Shiro's stomach starts to knot— and not in a good way.

“Is this okay?” Rahjim asks gently, “may I ask?”

“Yeah, but, um. I don't— I don't remember,” Shiro says, “I don't know how it happened.”

Shiro often forgets about his own scars. He doesn't remember how he got them— by all means it feels some days like he's woken up in someone else's body. When he looks down at himself, or catches a glimpse of his new right hand when he reaches for things, he's shocked by what he sees.

When he looks at his arm, or the various scars down his chest or the one bisecting his face for too long, Shiro starts to panic. He feels like he's in a nightmare, like someone has changed his body without his say— and they _have_ — and that scares him so badly he can't bear to think about it too long.

“You have a magnificent body. I love every part of it,” Rahjim says, and looks up at Shiro, “is that okay?”

Shiro trembles, just a little, but he knows Rahjim felt it. That's when Rahjim leans down and presses a kiss to the mangled scar tissue above Shiro's prosthetic.

“That,” Shiro swallows to hide the tremor in his voice, “that might be the closest I've come to not hating it.”

Rahjim’s cock bottoms out again in him, and Shiro gasps. He's sure he's an absolute wreck— his bangs are stuck to his forehead with sweat, he's mottled in bruises and red hickeys and his thighs are sticky and smeared in slick and come.

Rahjim leans up to kiss him again, “Your body is nothing to be ashamed of,” he whispers. It's almost too tender to bear.

Shiro nods, scared of letting himself get too emotional again.

“Thank you,” he says softly. Rahjim kisses his cheek, and his arms wrap tight around Shiro to draw him close as he keeps fucking him. Shiro presses his face into the crook of Rahjim's throat and closes his eyes. He feels so good. He wants to stay like this. He’s warm, he feels _safe_ and he feels happy.

Rahjim hums happily and kisses Shiro's temple. He must be able to sense that.

They stay like that until Shiro feels nearly weightless, and he realizes he's exhausted.

“Would you like to sleep soon or shall I continue?” Rahjim asks. Surprisingly psychic despite his claims to not be that.

Shiro lifts his head, almost embarrassingly groggy. He scrubs his face with a hand to wake himself up. He's never fallen asleep during sex, but he's never had marathon sex like this before.

“We should probably sleep,” Shiro concedes, “and I need a shower.”

“Would you like me to come now?” Rahjim asks, “or in the shower.”

Shiro's hit by an idea.

“Actually,” he starts carefully. Here comes another guilty pleasure. Rahjim perks up, interested.

Shiro leans in close, pressing his forehead to Rahjim's because he wants to see his reaction, “What if you came _on_ me?”

Rahjim blinks in confusion, “I… I don't understand.”

“On my face,” Shiro says as sultry as he can, “on my chest. All over me.”

Rahjim's grips tighten on him, “Is this… is this a human thing?”

Shiro feels… a little bit powerful from this, “Its— yeah. Considered a little degrading but,” he bites his lip, “but I like it. I like being filthy. I want to look as wrecked as you've made me.”

“Shiro,” Rahjim gasps. He sounds like he's been struck.

“Can you?” Shiro asks.

“You want this?” Rahjim asks, “rather than inside you?”

“Make sure to get some in my mouth, too,” Shiro says in lieu of an answer.

Rahjim groans, and says something that must be either a prayer or a curse. Maybe a mix of both.

“I’ve decided you have to stay,” Rahjim says, “you are going to be my— what did you call it? A concubine? And I'm going to fuck you every night and you're going to keep surprising me with these human things.”

Shiro laughs, and Rahjim pulls him in to kiss him.

“How do we do this,” he asks as they pull apart.

“You stand, I kneel,” Shiro explains, “I just need help getting up.”

Rahjim has been sliding his cock out of Shiro while they talk, and it’s just hitting the point that the drag _hasn’t_ stopped that coils in Shiro’s stomach and makes him arch his back because it feels so good. Shiro tightens his grips on Rahjim’s shoulders and tilts his head back, letting his mouth fall open as he groans.

“My concubine,” Rahjim says fondly, “I’d have you like this every day.”

Shiro blinks his eyes lazily, coming back to himself. It’s hard to remember why he can’t stay.

“One day,” Shiro offers, “maybe I’ll need a vacation.”

“Yes,” Rahjim agrees, “and you will stay with me for some days.”

“I’ll be at your mercy,” Shiro says before he knows what he’s doing, “and you can do whatever you want to me.” He can’t imagine saying no to anything Rahjim would want— especially since Rahjim gets off on making Shiro feel good.

Rahjim lifts him a little higher to kiss him, as the last of his dick slides free. Shiro hisses at the feeling of being stretched so open with nothing to fill him. Fresh slick spills down his thighs from Rahjim’s cock.

Rahjim stands easily, still holding Shiro’s weight.

“At my mercy,” Rahjim muses, “maybe that’s your purpose.”

“My reason for living is to get fucked by you?” Shiro teases, and pretends like he’s assessing pros and cons for a moment, “I guess there are worse things to live for.”

Rahjim laughs and bends to set Shiro’s feet on the floor. Shiro’s wobbly from not having stood for so long, and his knees are absolute jelly from the night of lovemaking. Shiro holds onto Rahjim to keep himself upright, and to make sure that they don’t stop touching. Rahjim leans down to kiss him again, and Shiro knows they’re about to get distracted for a while. So instead he slides down Rahjim’s body, pressing kisses and licks and nibbles to Rahjim’s soft stripe to feel Rahjim flinch and to hear him gasp when Shiro does something very right.

When Shiro gets close enough, he presses a kiss to the base of Rahjim’s cock, and on second thought he nuzzles it, getting some slick across his face. He’s very fond of this cock, slime and all. It’s been very good to him.

Rahjim’s hand lightly touches the top of Shiro’s hair, making Shiro glance up.

“How shall we…?” he starts.

His cock is leaving a wet smear up Shiro’s shoulder where it’s coming to sit against his throat. Shiro brings up his left hand to run his fist up and down the length of it.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says.

“I’m... I’m not sure where,” Rahjim says, “you’re sure you want this? That you like this?”

Shiro grins up at him, “The whole point is to make me look as wrecked as I feel. Yeah, I’m ready.”

He settles on his knees, leaning back so he’s almost sitting on his heels. He keeps his hands on Rahjim’s thighs to support himself.

Rahjim curls his cock up, and it trails a wet path across Shiro’s face. Shiro wrinkles his nose at him. Third time’s the charm, apparently.

Rahjim still seems nervous, coiling his cock instead of letting it firm up so he can come, so Shiro leans up to lick a line up the underside of Rahjim’s cock. It gets Rahjim’s attention. Shiro settles back into his kneeling position, and what the hell, he leans his head back, eyes closed, and opens his mouth. Might as well give Rahjim a target.

Shiro hears Rahjim hiss and this time he _knows_ Rahjim is cursing. It makes Shiro want to smile that he can get that response out of him.

He’s too curious to keep his eyes closed the whole time, so he peeks from his position. Rahjim’s cock is hovering just above his face, and while it’s still coiling it’s looking thicker and like it’s not as flexible. Shiro shudders. This is happening.

There isn’t much warning, and then the bumps that let out all the slick on the upper portion of Rahjim’s cock start to flow with pink ooze. Shiro just manages to close his eyes in time, before a hot streak of come rolls down his face. How does he forget it’s so hot, every time? He wonders if he might actually have red marks from it. Those pheromones that he smelled when he first went down on Rahjim are intense now. It’s on the edge of smelling sweet, and Shiro’s morbidly curious to know what Rahjim tastes like.

He feels the touch of Rahjim’s hand to the back of his head, guiding him to sit up taller and tilt his head back, and then the slick, firm slide as Rahjim drags his oozing cock across Shiro’s face, covering him in hot come. It’s rolling down his neck in fat globs, dripping onto his chest and shoulders. Rahjim doesn’t move from Shiro’s face, just keeps coming on him like Shiro asked.

“Yes,” Shiro says encouragingly, and opens his mouth wide again. He’s going for the full porn star look. When in Rome, and all that.

“You _do_ like this,” Rahjim says. He must feel how Shiro's glowing inside. He can't imagine the picture he makes right now— but he can imagine what Rahjim’s thinking about him and that makes Shiro want to grin.

Rahjim’s hand doesn’t move from his head, but there’s a brief lull. Shiro waits, mouth open, for the second wave to start. The anticipation, without being able to see what's happening or when, adds to Shiro's excitement.

He’s rewarded with the press of Rahjim’s cock to his lips, and he moans excitedly and tries to suck but there’s too much and his mouth fills quickly. Rahjim’s come isn’t as disgusting as human come, but it’s not what Shiro would consider a pleasant taste either. Shiro misjudges the angle as he swallows, head still back, and coughs as it gets caught in the back of his throat. Half the come in his mouth falls out— he wants to see if he just spat it all over Rahjim’s legs but his face is still covered in come and he can’t open his eyes— and he wants to laugh because of _course_ he fails at being sexy here too. He hears Rahjim gasp above him.

“Don't stop,” Shiro says, “I want it all.”

Shiro feels the shift in Rahjim’s thighs under his hands as Rahjim leans over him and Shiro feels the drip of hot come all down his back. He can feel it sliding down his spine as he sits up again, using Rahjim’s sturdy legs to brace himself.

Shiro wipes off his eyes, blinking heavily to keep from getting come in them. His eyelashes are heavy with it.

“Last round?” he asks, already knowing the answer, “where do you want it?”

Rahjim is staring down at him in shock. It makes Shiro feel almost giddy that he has this power.

It could also be the exhaustion talking, but Shiro feels looser and more playful than he has in months. Rahjim hasn’t given him an answer, and they don’t have a lot of time for debate. Shiro doesn’t mind filling in the blanks. Silence probably means Rahjim knows exactly what he wants, but might be afraid to ask.

Shiro squeezes his chest together, “On my tits?” he asks. He’s never cared for the phrasing, but he slept with one guy that would nearly come in his pants if Shiro talked like that, and it feels appropriate, “or… my face?”

He feels the twitch of Rahjim’s hand in his hair. Who needs to be psychic when Shiro can read Rahjim so well like this? Shiro’s buzzing with how excited he is that Rahjim is speechless. That _he’s_ the one calling the shots and that he gets to choose exactly what he wants. Well, actually, he’s pretty sure he knows what Rahjim wants.

Shiro licks the come off his lips, “My mouth, right?” he offers.

“Yes,” Rahjim gasps, “but you— you don’t—”

“You liked it when I choked?” Shio asks. Rahjim’s grip tightens again. Bingo. Rahjim furrows his brow as he tries to come up with some excuse. They really don’t have time for this so Shiro adds, “I liked it too.”

It’s kind of a white lie, without really being a lie. While the taste isn’t anything special, and it’s a little humiliating to be so undignified, Shiro does get a perverse thrill from choking on a cock, or, on a load of come. And that thrill outweighs the self-consciousness by a landslide. Rahjim had liked that earlier too, when Shiro was blowing him, so Shiro should have seen this coming. Plus, it’s finally something that Rahjim wants and not because he wants it for Shiro. Shiro’s _enjoying_ this. Way more than he thought he would.

Rahjim’s cock is beading with pink come again, and so Shiro sits up straight and leans his head back, mouth open wide and tongue sticking out invitingly. He closes his eyes, and thinks about how happy he is. He's going to look so fucked. Shiro tries to project all of that at Rahjim.

“Do it,” he says.

Somewhere there was a slight miscommunication because while Shiro meant _come in my mouth_ , Rahjim definitely heard _make me choke on it_. Shiro has his eyes closed so he’s somewhat unprepared for Rahjim’s cock sliding deep into his mouth— and then it keeps going. Deep into his mouth and into his throat as deeply as Shiro swallowed him down before. On instinct alone Shiro grabs it with his left hand to stop Rahjim from going any further, and his right grips Rahjim’s leg to keep him from pulling back, and then it’s too late: Rahjim’s coming and there’s deadly hot come spilling down his throat and out of his mouth while Shiro deepthroats him.

And Shiro chokes. It’s a lot for one person to handle— a great cock and a lot of come. It’s hard to breathe, and he’s sure more come dribbles out of his mouth than he actually manages to swallow. He probably looks like a drooling mess, but he doesn’t let Rahjim pull out. Shiro keeps sucking on him and swallows around his length as Rahjim groans loudly above him. It's encouraging and all the motivation Shiro needs. Rahjim’s grip in his hair is almost painful, and Shiro tries to ride it out when Rahjim’s hips buck involuntarily. He keeps his throat open, his tongue flat and pressed against Rahjim’s stiff cock, until the hot flow of come subsides. He keeps sucking on Rahjim’s cock until it's slick filling up his mouth again, and running down his chin. Rahjim’s panting, looking down at him with such awe in his eyes that Shiro feels like he must have done something amazing. He'd like to smile back but his mouth is stretched out around Rahjim’s softening cock.

When Rahjim finally slides out, Shiro shudders at the sensation. With the way Rahjim’s cock is shaped it’s a lot easier for him to slide deeper in Shiro’s throat than he’s used to dicks getting to, and feeling the drag of it where he's not expecting is a strange feeling. His throat is burning— not painful, but like he just drank something really hot— and it’s a weird thing to feel that sliding down towards his stomach.

He has to wipe off his eyes again, and by the time he’s blinked the drying come out of his eyes Rahjim is kneeling in front of him.

“Are you okay?” he asks quickly.

Shiro feels… good. He feels really good. Sated. Content. All sorts of nice synonyms. He's grinning like an idiot.

Shiro runs his fingers across his skin, smearing Rahjim’s come over his chest. He’s covered in stripes of slick pink that’s hot enough to make his skin a little red where it landed on him. He can see the start of some bruises on his hips from Rahjim’s hands, and he’s sure there’s going to be more showing up in the next little while.

“I’m great. How do I look?” he asks with a smile.

Rahjim relaxes visibly, “Wrecked,” he says, “and utterly ravishing. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Shiro licks his lips as some more come drips across them. He can feel it dripping off his chin. There’s definitely some in his nose, but he’ll take care of that when Rahjim’s not looking.

“Thank you,” Shiro says.

“I love you,” Rahjim replies.

Shiro’s surprised by himself when he feels the urge to say it back.  
  


* * *

 

They get through the shower before the hot water runs out, but not without trying. Despite all the heavy petting, Shiro isn't up for another round. He yawns while he tries to convince Rahjim to leave him covered in come— ‘don't you want to claim me?’ And finds out Rahjim’s people have no sense of domination like humans do in that sense. Rahjim indulges him anyways, gathering some of his come on his fingers to wrap it around Shiro's cock.

“So long as you're under my roof, you're mine,” Rahjim growls as he strokes him, and Shiro jumps up to throw his arms around Rahjim's neck and kiss him. They fool around in the shower, but they’re both tired and sleep is an inevitability at this point.

Rahjim insists on drying him off again, and then on carrying Shiro to bed. Normally Shiro would be embarrassed about being patronized, but it means that he doesn't have to stop touching Rahjim or letting Rahjim treat him like he's something precious. And Shiro likes that a lot more than he thought he would.

They have some more goo-ish liquid from the ship's supplies to quench their thirst, and nest up in one of the few remaining beds they haven't fucked in. The lack of sleep is really hitting Shiro now and he's blinking heavy and on the edge of passing out— except he doesn't want to stop kissing.

Rahjim and him are so tangled up in each other that Shiro's sure he’ll be aching because of it, but he can't move away.

He feels like he's making up for all the time he's spent not being touched, not feeling safe and open with someone. Rahjim kisses him when he says that.

“Good,” he says.

Rahjim is kissing his face and Shiro's finding it harder and harder to open his eyes.

“Thank you,” Shiro mumbles, “for making me happy.”

He feels Rahjim press a kiss to his forehead, “you make me happy,” he says, “I love you so much.”

Shiro's so far gone that he's not sure if he says it out loud or not, but he replies, “Love you too. In the normal way.”

 

* * *

 

Morning comes too soon. Shiro's head feels fuzzy and his eyes are bleary as he struggles to wake up. Rahjim doesn't seem much better, but he smiles at Shiro and it makes Shiro's stomach flutter happily.

They're still pressed against one another— Shiro's still not over how nice, but different, it is to be waking up next to someone. He's sure once he starts moving he’ll feel all the spots he's sore or slept weird, but for now Shiro basks in the glow.

“I'm glad you made me shower,” Shiro admits.

Rahjim chuckles, “Perhaps next time I’ll plan to let you stay filthy and debauched like that.”

“Well…” Shiro stretches his arms and legs out with a yawn, “how long does it take to get back to the Castle?”

“Time enough for a little debauchery,” Rahjim grins. He rolls Shiro onto his back as he climbs over him.

Shiro makes to spread his legs, to let Rahjim blanket him with his body, but as soon as he starts moving he feels the ache in his body of the night catching up to him.

“Hold on,” Shiro groans defeatedly, “I don’t— ow— I think I need a raincheck.”

Now that he’s moved, _everything_ aches. Rahjim stays braced above him, keeping his weight off of Shiro, and leans down to kiss him. Even Shiro’s lips feel swollen. His jaw aches, his throat is sore, his abs hurt like he did a big workout. His ass hurts— who would have thought taking a huge cock for hours would have repercussions like this? He’s going to hurt for a while. It’s perfect.

“I suppose we should get dressed then,” Rahjim sighs. Shiro reluctantly agrees.

Sitting up is even worse, and Shiro needs help getting to his feet. Rahjim offers to carry him, more tongue-in-cheek and pleased with himself than anything— but Shiro declines him. He needs to be able to get around on his own without looking like he got fucked senseless.

He’s been weak-kneed after a good hookup, but he’s never limped like this before.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Rahjim laughs. He easily finds his robe where they hung it up yesterday, and ties it up loosely. Even with his hair wild and curly from the sex and showers, and his robe hanging open on his chest, he carries himself regally like he’s not incredibly disheveled and tired from a night of fun.

Shiro grits his teeth as he finds his skirt from the Altean uniform. Bending hurts. Rahjim spares him some more indignity and takes the skirt from him, holding it low so Shiro can step into it, and pulls it up and over the large hand-sized bruises on Shiro’s thighs and hips. He pulls Shiro into a loose hug as he stands, bending his head to kiss him again. Shiro rests his head against Rahjim’s chest and sighs.

“At least I don’t have to wear that damn collar anymore,” Shiro sighs in relief.

“Um,” Rahjim says, and traces the back of his knuckles down Shiro’s neck, “you will want to.”

The way he says it makes Shiro step back, and then limp for the bathroom mirror as quickly as he can. Last night he was either dissociating too badly, or too tired and covered in come to see his neck. Now, in the bright light he finally takes a good look at himself.

He looks like he’s been attacked. There are bruises everywhere. There’s even marks where it’s obviously not just a hickey, but a hickey _with teeth_. It would be impossible to come up with any sort of excuse to cover any of these. Shiro looks exactly like he got fucked senseless. Multiple times. All night.

He sees Rahjim come up behind him in the mirror.

“This is,” Shiro wants to say bad— he’s a little mad, too, because this is going to be so hard to cover and hide from his team— but then he looks over the bruises again, at how he’s been marked and how he’s going to have these things to remember Rahjim by, and he runs his fingers over them. Each one is a memory of Rahjim fucking him in a different way, whispering different praises into his ears, and Shiro realizes he’s not mad about it at all.

“I’m going to need the collar,” he sighs, “until I get my vest back.”

“You did want to be marked,” Rahjim points out.

Shiro shakes his head with a smile and puts his hands on his hips, “Okay, if we’re going to do this I need to get it over with. Can you help me?”

Rahjim, unsurprisingly, agrees. The collar is cold against Shiro’s skin, and feels restrictive. It feels nice, though, against the trail of Rahjim’s bruises on his skin. Rahjim kisses the back of Shiro’s neck one last time before he starts doing up the clasps. It’s a goodbye kiss, and Shiro starts feeling sad. It’s been one night, it was only ever supposed to be one night, but he’s really going to miss Rahjim.

Rahjim pats Shiro’s shoulders when he’s done. Shiro turns to face him, and feels a little pride at how Rahjim drinks him in. The skirt is sitting low on his hips, and the collar is keeping his head up so his spine is straight, and the cape is flowing down over his shoulders to trail on the ground at his heels. Shiro realizes that they forgot to put on his shirt. He’s about to point it out, but Rahjim speaks first,

“Were you my concubine, this is how I would dress you,” he says. It’s soft, playful, but the underlying hunger is raw enough to make Shiro shudder.

“Next time,” Shiro says, more of a promise than he intended it to be, “but maybe no collar.”

“A smaller one,” Rahjim concedes, “because you look divine in them.”

Shiro blushes, and his full-body flush is all the more evident in this outfit. Hilarious, really, that after everything they’ve done Rahjim can still get him blushing with just some compliments.

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of concubines,” Shiro points out.

“I don’t like the idea of unwilling or unhappy partners,” Rahjim reminds him, and then grins proudly, “but I know you would be very willing to let me own you. For a night, at least.”

Shiro can’t help the shocked gasp he sucks in. It’s nearly embarrassing that Rahjim can get a rise out of him like this, that he has figured out Shiro enough to know that’s going to get him.

“Next time,” Rahjim promises. Shiro nods mutely.

Shiro finds his comm, sliding it back into his ear. There’s no messages or active lines right now, so everything must be fine. He can’t be bothered to put on his shoes yet either, which leaves...

“I… um… have you seen my underwear?” he asks.

Rahjim glances around, “I thought we put all of your clothes here?”

Shiro shakes his head, “Well… I guess I’m going full-Altean.”

Rahjim's confused face makes Shiro laugh. He deciedes not to explain.

“I would fly you home in this,” Rahjim says, gesturing to the ship they're in, “but I believe the cockpit is a tad… messy.”

Shiro holds up his hands innocently, “I'm not the one with the slimy tentacle. You leaked everywhere.”

“It was your idea!” Rahjim laughs, and he reaches out to grab Shiro and pull him in for a kiss, “I was merely following your lead.”

“No regrets,” Shiro admits.

“None,” Rahjim agrees, “but we’ll need to go to another ship for me to take you home.”

And there it is. It's happening. Their time together is almost over.

 

* * *

 

They’re both only half-dressed when they leave the ship. It looks so normal on the outside, Shiro can’t believe he just had the best night of his life in there. It’s a little sad, to be walking off the cruiser. Like leaving a fairy tale, the magic is over and it’s time to return to the real world. The air is a lot fresher and it makes Shiro realize how the whole ship was filled with the smell of sex. There's no hiding what he and Rahjim were up to, for whoever has to clean it. Shiro kind of hopes they're a little impressed.

Their naked footsteps echo loudly in the hangar. The lights are dim, but it's still brighter than it was inside the ship and Shiro squints.

Rahjim reaches out to hold Shiro's hand, the one not holding his shoes and shirt, and drapes another arm over Shiro’s shoulders. It feels nice to touch someone casually like this. Shiro didn't know how much he missed touches like this.

“We’ll take this one,” Rahjim says, directing Shiro to a ship. Shiro realizes it's the same one he pointed out last night— the one he liked, because it reminded him of an earth shuttle. He squeezes Rahjim's hand in gratitude.

 

* * *

 

This ship is smaller than the cruiser they spent the night on, but it's big enough for a small team to make short trips on planets. Shiro takes notes of its specs— he knows Coran and Pidge have been talking about finding more subtle means of transport for visiting planets. Maybe they'll look into one of these.

Rahjim picks up like their tour from last night never ended, and starts running Shiro through all the capabilities and uses of the ship. He keeps Shiro close, and it's such a difference from their friendly distance last night that Shiro can't believe how much has changed in one night.

Rahjim walks him through slowly, obviously taking pride in his knowledge of his ships. The only change from last night, is that he pauses occasionally to kiss Shiro, and that Shiro is nearly leaning into him the whole time.

When they make their way into the cockpit the first thing Shiro glances at is how resourceful they’d have to be to fuck in the seats. Not that he’d be able to, but he’s going to have a hard time looking at any ship seating for a while and not thinking about last night.

“You’re sure I can’t convince you for one last round,” Rahjim asks. Shiro’s still not sure if Rahjim isn’t psychic after all.

Shiro shakes his head sadly, “I’m not going to be able to sit down in front of anyone for a while. I’m in recovery mode.”

“In that case,” Rahjim sighs, “would you like to fly it?”

Shiro’s not sure he heard him right, and looks up at Rahjim for clarification.

“Would you like to fly it?” Rahjim repeats.

Shiro feels giddy all over again, “Yes,” he says quickly, “yeah, I really do. Are you sure?”

“You are a Paladin, I should hope you know how to fly a cruiser,” Rahjim replies, “besides, we aren’t going far.”

“It shouldn’t be that hard,” Shiro shrugs, “I’ve learned a few things since leaving Earth.”

Rahjim huffs, “Perhaps I shouldn’t have offered,” he teases.

“No take-backs!” Shiro claims quickly. He all but runs for the captain’s chair, held back by the fact that he’s still too sore to really run. Rahjim catches up to him in one long pace and grabs him around the middle, lifting Shiro easily so that he can sit in the chair and pulls Shiro into his lap. Shiro hisses.

“Are you okay?” Rahjim asks. He’s worried, but a look at his face confirms he’s grinning.

“You said I could fly it,” Shiro says.

“And you will,” Rahjim says, “but I realized I should probably instruct you as to _how_.”

“Fair,” Shiro concedes, “should I go to the other chair?”

“No,” Rahjim tightens his hold on Shiro, “we aren’t going very far, or travelling very fast. I want you right here.”

Shiro’s okay with that.

 

* * *

 

In the end Shiro's glad Rahjim decided to handle the takeoff. The ships controls are just different enough that Shiro would have been struggling to translate and correlate everything he knows to figure out what to do, and he'd be scared about accidentally damaging any of Rahjim’s other ships in the hangar.

Rahjim handles the ship with ease. He talks as he does, easily telling Shiro what he's doing and what does what. He keeps one arm wrapped around Shiro's waist, and has his chin over Shiro's shoulder and talks gently in his ear.

The feeling of acceleration always excites Shiro. That weightlessness of leaving the ground. The cruiser isn't anywhere as loud as an Earth shuttle, and it doesn't carry the majesty or buzz of maybe-magic like the Black Lion or the Castle does. It feels like it's just them. This is the type of flying that Shiro’s missed.

They clear the hangar easily, and Rahjim directs them into the morning sky, and Shiro grins at the gut-dropping feeling of ascension.

“Did you know” Shiro says conversationally into Rahjim’s ear as he reaches out to touch Rahjim’s hands wrapped around the shaft of the throttle, “I love a guy who can handle his stick.”

Rahjim laughs so hard that Shiro has to steer for him.

 

* * *

 

Rahjim flies for a while, showing Shiro how the cruiser responds, and has Shiro hold the steering so Rahjim can place his hands over his and guide Shiro.

Shiro's itching to _go_ by the time Rahjim sits back and lets him take control. Everything is hand-operated so the fact that his legs are shorter than Rahjim’s doesn't matter. Rahjim wraps more arms around Shiro and nuzzles into his shoulder.

“So how fast does this thing go?” Shiro asks.

“Fast enough,” Rahjim says, and points to the accelerator, “it's a planet-side cruiser, so unless you're up to something, you probably won't need to ever max the speed-”

“Let's find out,” Shiro says, and hits the acceleration.

 

* * *

 

Shiro’s laughing with giddy, unbridled joy by the time Rahjim tells him they're going to be late.

Shiro has half a mind to just keep flying. He doesn't want this to end. He still hasn't put his shirt on.

But he's going to have to go back to normal soon. This was one night, and it's time to get back to regular life. Which means planning ahead, seeing the big picture.

“Um,” Shiro starts slowly, “I had a great night—”

“But?” Rahjim senses.

“I don’t… is it okay if we keep it secret?” Shiro asks, “I’m not ashamed. But… politics. And.. I don’t want it to spread—”

“Of course,” Rahjim says, “I thought you might like to keep it discreet.”

Shiro's surprised by how confident he is that Rahjim will keep his word.

“Thanks,” he says.

Rahjim presses a kiss to Shiro's cheek.

“It's a shame though,” he says forlornly.

“What?” Shiro can't think of anything he regrets— unless Rahjim means being able to talk about the fact that he slept with a Paladin of Voltron.

“After everything we did, I never did get you to come in my mouth,” Rahjim's all but pouting.

Shiro slows the ship, “Well…” he considers his words carefully. Rahjim's grip on him tightens, “I don't have anything on under the skirt so…”

“Air brake is right here,” Rahjim says quickly, and nearly dips Shiro when he reaches to activate it, “we can hover for hours if need be.”

“I'm sure you won't need long,” Shiro laughs, and then gets serious a moment, “it might be too soon. I don't know if I can—”

“You will,” Rahjim says with full certainty, “now get in the other chair and spread your legs.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro's knees are still shaking as he walks off the cruiser into the Castle Hangar. He's been shocked by how quickly the Castle has become home— the white, flowing Altean architecture and blue tones are comforting in their familiarity.

Rahjim pulls his hands back until he has a friendly, neutral hand between Shiro's shoulder blades. Shiro glances up at Rahjim, wondering what's wrong, but then he remembers that they probably aren't alone. And he asked to keep their night private. Rahjim meets Shiro's gaze and smiles.

“Prince Rahjim! Thank you for returning Shiro to us,” Allura calls from where she’s walking into the hangar.

She's dressed in much more comfortable robes than the uniform from last night, and while her hair is tied back it's loose enough to suggest it's been an easy, lax morning.

Shiro's not really sure how to look her in the eyes right now. He's determined to not make this awkward.

“It was my pleasure,” Rahjim says and Shiro almost rolls his eyes at the entendre, “I don't suppose I could convince you to let me keep him a while longer?”

Allura's crossed the hangar to join them, and laughs good-naturedly at Rahjim's request.

“As much as I'm sure he would— oh!” She glances at Shiro as she speaks and her eyes go wide with shock.

For a moment Shiro thinks there's something wrong— and then Allura claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“What?” Shiro demands to both of them.

“The Prince can't see from this angle, I'm assuming,” Allura gets out, and she reaches forwards to tilt Shiro's chin up so Rahjim can lean down to see.

“Oops. I'm afraid the collar doesn't cover everything after all,” Rahjim says.

Shiro puts a hand to his jawline where the collar ends. He shoots a glare up at Rahjim.

Rahjim doesn't look sheepish at all.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself,” Allura says slyly.

Now it's awkward.

Before Shiro can shut down that conversation, Allura jumps topics.

“Prince Rahjim, were you aware there was another ship following you?”

That makes Shiro’s nerves slide away. Was it Galra allies already? To come after Rahjim for declaring support with Voltron?

“Of course,” Rahjim says, and his hand is still broad and warm between Shiro's shoulder blades, “I summoned it.”

Allura and Shiro exchange a glance.

“Why?” Shiro asks.

“To take me home,” Rahjim says like it's obvious, “which I suppose leads me to,” and he gestures two arms at the cruiser behind them, “Princess Allura, if you will have it, I would like to donate a ship to your cause. It's well maintained and will provide adequate coverage as well as being less conspicuous than any Altean craft. Plus, I've trained Shiro on how to fly it and he can confirm that it's in fine form.”

Shiro's staring at Rahjim. This can't be real. They flew this ship here because it was the one _he_ liked. This isn't a gift for the team— it is, but that's an afterthought—

This is a gift for Shiro.

“You don't have to—” Shiro starts.

“We accept,” Allura cuts Shiro off, “your hospitality and gracious nature have been a balm in these hard times. We will always consider you a close ally.”

“I am happy to do what I can,” Rahjim smiles, “and since I cannot fight, I will provide what support I offer.”

“I can only imagine what the rest of the Paladins will say when they see this,” Allura says, surveying the cruiser.

“They're not up yet?” Shiro asks.

“No,” Allura confirms, “they're sleeping in. We had such a wonderful time at the gala last night,” she grins mischievously, “you missed quite a lot of fun.”

“I think we did alright on our own,” Shiro shrugs. Rahjim laughs, and it's only then does Shiro realize what he just said to his CO. To be fair this is the same CO who set him up, so, he’s going to call it even between them.

“Princess I must thank you for your counsel,” Rahjim says diplomatically, “it proved most useful to my interests.”

A loud roar fills the hangar as Rahjim’s escort arrives. It's a small ship, even smaller than the cruiser he's giving them. It would have been so easy to just take something like that, that fits two people, but Rahjim must have been planning to give them the ship. Maybe since last night when Shiro picked it? Or was that just coincidence?

“I'm glad everything worked out,” Allura says, as if they’re not talking about Rahjim having sex with Shiro, “and thank you again Prince Rahjim. Given more time, I would like to call you a good friend.”

“I would be delighted to be friends with you,” Rahjim nearly purrs, and Shiro feels his face heat up as he remembers what Rahjim said about his criteria for friends.

Rahjim glances around briefly, “The other Paladins are asleep, correct?”

Shiro feels his hand press firmly against Shiro's back.

“Yes,” Allura says, and then with surprising awareness for her, she takes a step back and glances away to give them some privacy.

Shiro's expecting it, and he's not disappointed, when Rahjim leans down to kiss him goodbye.

“I truly hope you will visit me again. But if this was our only night together, I will be very happy for it.”

Shiro glances at the cruiser, “You really don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” Rahjim insists, “let me help.”

Shiro lets his shoulders slump in defeat, “Thank you,” he says, and then smiles, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I should hope so,” Rahjim jokes, “but Allura should have my contact now in the Castle directory. You may call me whenever you need me.”

It’s kind of a relief, to know that he can talk to Rahjim if he needs him. Shiro knows himself though. He’s not sure he’ll ever make that call.

“Thank you,” Shiro says again, and touches the collar around his neck, “for everything.”

Rahjim leans in for one last kiss, “Be safe out there, Shiro. And be open. You never know what fate has in store for you.”

 

* * *

 

Shiro and Allura don’t speak until Rahjim’s ship has left. Shiro waves a little dumbly, and he’s more than surprised about how much he already misses having Rahjim near him.

Allura glances sideways at him and smiles.

Shiro groans, “How am I going to hide these? Are they really that obvious?”

Allura quirks her head to the side, “Why would you want to hide them? Oh! This is that human prudishness, isn’t it. Are you not supposed to engage in sexual activities?”

“No, I can— I just don’t need everyone in my private life,” Shiro explains.

Allura nods sagely, “I’m sure Coran has something. Let’s get you fixed up before the other humans awaken.”

“I need to get out of this collar,” Shiro grumbles.

“But it did the trick,” Allura says, “Coran and I couldn’t decide if Prince Rahjim would like the gold or the white detail. I, of course, still think he would have liked the white but Coran made an excellent point that the gold is quite regal and matched much of Prince Rahjim’s jewelry.”

“Coran and— Coran was in on this too?” Shiro demanded, “you _dressed_ me like this on purpose?”

“The Prince was nervous,” Allura shrugs, “you weren’t responding to any of his advances. Shiro, it was adorable the way he was pining after you. We wanted to make you irresistible so he wouldn’t get cold feet.”

“He was… pining. After me?” Shiro repeats dumbly. It was one thing for Rahjim to have said it, but a different thing for Allura to confirm it.

Allura stops to study Shiro, “You… you didn’t know?”

Shiro shakes his head.

“Coran was right!” she shouts suddenly, startling Shiro, “I just assumed you weren’t interested— that your species either runs on a mating cycle or that you were just celibate. But Coran theorized that, as you’re from an outskirt planet that hasn’t made contact yet, you must have flirting and mating habits different from normal people. And truly that made so much more sense in the face of all of the other suitors you’re turned down.”

“Other suitors?” Shiro says slowly. He feels like a bad echo, “what do you mean _other_ suitors?”

“Shiro,” Allura sighs, “do you really not know? There’s been someone on nearly every planet we’ve been to who has been trying to bed you. You’ve broken so many hearts.”

“Me?” Shiro’s thinking back, trying to recall any time anyone took special interest in him. He… he spent a lot of time with any of their hosts because he was the leader. He had to be there for meetings and deals and negotiations. He doesn’t remember any special treatment or flirtations.

“So the direct approach works best,” Allura says, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Shiro’s not sure how to process the way she phrases that.

“Well you obviously made quite an impression,” Allura says, and gestures back at the cruiser as the two of them leave the hangar, “the Prince is known for his gifts, but I never thought he would gift an entire ship!”

Shiro stops and reassesses what Allura just said.

“You… he’s known for giving gifts?” and there’s a twist in his gut when he starts talking, “Allura did you… did you set me up to get a ship?”

In the end, Shiro still had a great night. He doesn’t regret anything he did with Rahjim. But if Allura had basically used him for favors—

Allura’s eyes go wide as her ears perk up with alarm, “Oh! Heavens no! Shiro it’s not that at all! Prince Rahjim came to me! He was absolutely smitten with you from the day we landed— I mean, of course I assumed he would try to coerce you for power or gain, but he simply wanted to know why you weren’t responding to any of his advances, and then he promised to wait until after the negotiations were done to proposition you.”

“He’s nice like that,” Shiro says, and he can’t help but smile.

Allura reaches out to pat Shiro’s arm, “In the end I just wanted you to have some fun. And I’m glad you did,” and then that smug look is back, “but if this is what can be expected of ‘setting you up’, then… I may consider it.”

Shiro snorts, “Allura!” he says with some fake betrayal in his voice.

She laughs, “We will be going near the Remulai System next— masters of fusion engines. Just imagine what the Castle would be capable of with new engines!”

Shiro shakes his head. He can’t believe he’s joking about this. With his CO no less. Well, weirder things have happened to him, “We’d probably have to stay a while.”

“Doubting your skills,” Allura teases.

“Nah,” Shiro shoots a smug look back at her, and he’s aware he looks like he just spent the night being ravished from his messy hair, his satisfied grin, the hickeys to wearing last night's clothes, “how many engines does the ship have? At least four? That’s a lot. At least more than one night's worth.”

“I’m sure you’ll work very hard for the cause,” Allura says seriously.

They both manage to hold their composure for a few more seconds until they reach the elevator before devolving into uncontrollable laughter as the doors close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~THE END~
> 
> **For those curious, here's a quick summary of Rahjim's backstory: he's like the second-cousin of the real Royal Line, or smth distantly related. And as a young dude he ran off to join the Rebellion to fight against Zarkon. While away he got badly injured, and during his recovery the whole Royal Line was killed (possibly by the Galra), and so he ended up being next in line. He had a choice to make between staying and fighting, and the possible glory- or early death- that could come from that, or taking up his duty and becoming the Leader that his planet needed and essentially giving up the fight. He's always regretted the choice a little bit, and felt like he's been too cushioned in life (to be fair tho, he does like cushions). Anyways! That's more backstory than you probably ever wanted for an OC, lmao!
> 
> I'm going to be working on the Voltron Gen Mini Bang as my next big project, so I may not get a chance to update this series for a bit, but know it's coming! (lol). As a blatant shoutout, if you're going to miss my writing, I'll be working on my other Shiro-centric series: Tomorrow I'll Switch the Beat. It's another series about Shiro getting wrecked-- but in very different ways from this fic (you may have already heard about [the possibly infamous] Little Monster by now).
> 
> Btw if you end up creating anything in relation to RS-- a doodle of Rahjim, a short bit of writing, a poem, a song, anything!! You have to let me know so I can add a link for everyone to enjoy it! And so I can tell you how much I love it!
> 
> Lastly (this might be overstepping my position) but what if i throw it out there that if you have a scenario that requires (someone nice) to (nicely) hit on Shiro? Why not use Rahjim!?! Idk, I just thought it'd be a hilarious fandom joke if this dude just keeps showing up wanting to bang Shiro in every universe they're in, lmao. Even as a one-line character. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much to everyone who's been a part of this fun experience! You're all a delight and I can't wait to get back to this series and continue #wrecking Shiro across the Universe! It won't all be OC's, so feel free to guess at who's gonna take their turn at Shiro ;)
> 
> See you in pt 2!

**Author's Note:**

> #wreck shiro 2k17


End file.
